Feeling the Aster
by XxNeonShadowsxX
Summary: A collection of oneshots focusing on Robin and moments between him, Bruce, and Wally/Roy. Cover made by the amazing jordylilly777!
1. Needles

**A/N **Basically, this will be a collection of one-shots involving Robin, mainly when he's with Batman, or with Wally and/or Roy. This chapter is, sadly, based off of a true experience of mine...yeah. This one is when Dick is younger...not sure how young, but under 9-10, I would say. I'll leave that to your imagination. ;) Hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer **No, I don't own Young Justice. Maybe in an alternate reality...

~Aiva

* * *

"Time to go, Richard," Bruce said, taking the small boys hand. Dick pulled away, crossing his arms stubbornly. "I don't want to go," he said firmly.

"It's just a doctor's appointment. No shots or anything," Bruce soothed. "Okay, Dickie?"

Dick slowly nodded. "…Okay…" he agreed reluctantly, taking Bruce's hand again. Bruce breathed a small sigh of relief; this was going better than he had hoped.

A short car ride later, they were at the small doctor's office. The walls were painted bright, cheerful colors, and numerous children's books littered the floor. Dick's eyes lit up, and he quickly grabbed one of the picture books, flipping through it eagerly. Bruce couldn't help but smile at the adorable sight.

"Richard Grayson?" a nurse called. Dick's head shot up, and he closed his book. Bruce led the reluctant boy towards the small room. Dick hugged Bruce's leg, and Bruce ran his fingers through Dick's dark hair comfortingly. "It's alright, Dickie," he assured. "They're just going to make sure you're healthy, and then they'll give you a sticker."

Dick relaxed at that, excitement shining in his blue eyes. "I get a sticker?" he repeated cheerfully. Bruce nodded, and Dick grinned. The doctor then walked in. Dick stared at him curiously a moment before waving. "Hi!" he greeted happily, clambering onto the long, paper-covered bench. The doctor chuckled. "Hi, Richard," he replied.

"Dick."

"What?" the doctor asked, confused and a bit startled.

"I wanna be called Dick," he clarified, crossing his arms.

"Right," the doctor said. "Sorry, Dick."

"It's okay!" the young boy responded easily, his grin returning. His blue eyes looked around the room curiously. "What's that?" he asked, pointing towards the stethoscope.

The doctor unwound in from around his neck. "This is a stethoscope," he explained. "It helps me listen to your heart."

Dick's nose crinkled in confusion. "Why would you want to hear my heart?" he asked. The doctor laughed. "To make sure you're healthy," he responded.

"Oh…can I play with it?" Dick asked, looking up at the man with hopeful blue eyes. The doctor felt his heart melt as he met his pleading expression. "Let me listen to your heart first, okay?" he asked.

* * *

After listening to his heart, checking his reflexes, and shining a light in his ears and eyes, the doctor proclaimed Dick healthy. Dick grinned, a look of excitement returning to his blue eyes. "Do I get a sticker now?" he asked eagerly.

"Right after we give you a shot!" the doctor responded cheerfully. Dick froze, then shot a look at Bruce that was almost as intense as a Batglare. "You said I wouldn't get a shot!" he cried, face growing pale. He leapt off the bench and hugged Bruce's leg tightly. "I don't want to!" he cried, beginning to shake.

Bruce picked him up, rubbing his back comfortingly. "I know, Dickie. I'm sorry. But it'll all be over in a few seconds, okay?"

Dick slowly nodded, and Bruce set him down again. As soon as Dick's feet made contact with the ground, he ran out of the room, leaving a surprised doctor and a worried Bruce behind. "I'll get him," Bruce said quickly, standing up and rushing out of the room.

It wasn't hard to guess which way the boy had gone; Bruce simply followed the trail of confused nurses who had seen Dick run by. "Dick!" Bruce shouted. "Dickie!"

"No!" came the shrill response. Somehow, Dick had managed to get a hold of a light fixture, and was clinging to it as if his life depended on it. He glanced down, and Bruce noticed how pale he was. _The kid regularly patrols Gotham, but he's afraid of a little needle? _Bruce thought silently. He glanced up at Dick, a firm look on his face. "Richard John Grayson, get down here right now," he ordered.

"No!" Dick repeated, starting to panic. Bruce immediately decided a different approach. "Dickie, if you come down, I'll buy you ice cream," he promised.

Dick shook his head. "They're still going to shove a nee…a nee…"

"A needle?" Bruce finished.

"Don't say the word!" Dick shrieked, clutching the light fixture tighter. By now there was a crowd of nurses and other parents, some worried, some laughing. Bruce sighed. "Please, Dickie?" he tried again.

"No!"

"Dick, it won't hurt! I promise!"

"You promised I wouldn't have to get a shot too!" Dick replied immediately, terrified sobs beginning to edge his words. _This isn't going well, _Bruce thought. Of course, if he wasn't Bruce Wayne at the moment, he could've easily gotten Dick down. Unfortunately, most playboy billionaires weren't able to dangle from light fixtures.

"Do you trust me, Dick?" Bruce asked softly. Dick nodded hesitantly. "Then please come down?"

Dick shook his head. "I trust _you_. N-not the nee…nee…"

"Needles?"

"DON'T SAY THE WORD!" Dick repeated, tears beginning to fall from his blue eyes.

Bruce looked around. "Does anyone have a chair or something?" he asked quickly. Someone silently handed him a chair, and Bruce stood on it. Dick's eyes widened, and he tried to scramble away. Unfortunately for him, there were only so many ways you could get off of a light fixture. Bruce grabbed him, holding him tightly but gently.

"Dick, calm down!" Bruce said. Dick's terrified sobs didn't cease, and he tried desperately to get out of Bruce's hold.

"I don't want to, I don't want to!" Dick repeated desperately. Bruce was forced to drag him back to the small room, where he was met by a very concerned doctor. "Do it quick," Bruce panted, trying to hold on to the squirming child.

By now Dick was hyperventilating, eyes wide and face pale. His hands were clenched into tight fists as he struggled to get away. "Please!" he cried out, desperation edging his words. "Daddy, don't make me!" Bruce's heart was breaking now, but he forced himself to keep Dick still until the doctor gave him the shot.

Dick's breaths came even faster, and Bruce could feel the boy trembling in his arms. "Shh, Dickie," he soothed. Dick buried his face into Bruce's shoulder, sobbing as the needle was plunged into his arm. Bruce softly assured him that everything was alright, that he was fine, that it was over. Dick was still hyperventilating though, and Bruce glanced at him with concern.

Dick was starting to feel dizzy, but he couldn't seem to calm himself. "He's having a panic attack," Bruce said calmly to the rather pale doctor.

"Uh, r-right. Have him lie down, and uh, get some water," he instructed. Bruce resisted the urge to roll his eyes; he had known that. Bruce set Dick on the long bench gently, Dick still clinging to his suit, causing Bruce to have to lean over Dick. "Shh, Dickie. It's over now, I promise. No more ne - shots," he said, hastily changing "needles" at the last moment.

He ran his fingers through the boy's sweaty hair, and eventually Dick began to calm down, though tears still shone on his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Dickie," Bruce said softly. Dick wrapped his arms around Bruce's neck with a small whimper, burying his tear-stained face into his chest. "D-daddy," he said softly, the words muffled.

"Yes, Dickie?"

"Do…do I still get ice cream?"

* * *

**A/N **Yeah, as I said before, based off a true story. I didn't cry or cling to a light fixture, but I did attempt to run out of the room, and I did have a panic attack. ...Then I nearly passed out from oxygen deprivation because I was hyperventilating so much. Yeah. Me and needles don't mix.

Anyway, if any of you have ideas for future chapters, just click the button below! ;)

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	2. Ice Cream

**A/N **Both ZS and PeppyGothChick asked about Dick getting his ice cream...so here it is! I'm not sure how it ended up being nearly 4,000 words...but oh well! This one is somewhat less humorous and more hurt/comfort, but hopefully you'll enjoy anyway. :D Dick is still little in this, and it takes place immediately after the first chapter.

**Disclaimer **If I owned Young Justice, there wouldn't be a 5 year time skip. Just sayin'.

~Aiva

* * *

Dick was still sniffling, bright blue eyes tinged red from crying. He wiped away a tear furiously with the back of his hand, then glanced at Bruce. "We're getting ice cream, right?" he asked, checking. Bruce nodded, but he wasn't quite sure he was supposed to reward this behavior. Wasn't there a rule or something that he wasn't supposed to give a kid ice cream for hanging on light fixtures in a doctor's office? Bruce sighed; parenting was harder than he had thought. "I promised, didn't I?" he asked lightly in response, glancing at Dick as he picked the small boy up. Seeing the tear tracks on his pale face, Bruce suddenly found his debate ended. The poor kid deserved ice cream after all that…right?

Dick wrapped his small arms around Bruce's neck, burying his face in the man's suit. "Thank you," Bruce said to the doctor, who still looked a bit shaken by Dick's rather explosive reaction to the shot. "Sorry for all the trouble."

"I-it's fine," the doctor said, stammering slightly before regaining his composure. He opened the door, allowing the billionaire to walk through to the front desk. Bruce gave the nurse an easy smile as he walked out the door. "Don't you want a sticker?" the nurse asked Dick, a friendly note to her voice. Dick looked at her shyly, wiping away another lingering tear as he nodded. "Yes, please," he said softly.

The nurse gave him a warm smile as she pressed a sticker to his hand. Dick grinned with delight as he saw the Superman sticker, and he showed it to Bruce, who tried not to scowl. Superman…what happened to Batman stickers? "It's very nice, Dick," he assured the small boy, who's grin widened.

"Have a good day, Richard!" the nurse called out cheerfully to the boy as Bruce carried him outside.

"Dick!" he shouted back. The doors then closed shut, leaving Dick with a fading glance of a rather startled group of people. Bruce tried not to laugh at that, a small smile forming instead as he started walking to the car.

Dick squirmed out of Bruce's hold, adding a small flip before landing on the ground. He looked at the billionaire with pleading blue eyes. "Can we walk? Please? It's not far," Dick asked, his lower lip sticking out slightly in an adorable pout that most wouldn't be able to resist for more than a few seconds. Bruce hesitated, then nodded. It really wasn't that far, after all. Dick grinned, slipping his hand in Bruce's larger one cheerfully as he practically dragged the man towards the small ice cream parlor nearby.

* * *

One busy street and a near heart attack later, Bruce was relieved to find himself standing in line for ice cream, Dick humming happily at his side. Bruce shook his head slightly; that was the last time he tried walking anywhere with the kid. Dick apparently didn't know the rules of crossing busy streets; mainly, the ever important rule to _not _do it.

"I want cookie dough, and mint, and strawberry!" Dick informed Bruce, tugging on the man's sleeve impatiently. He bounced up and down slightly in excitement as he pointed to the containers, a grin lighting up his face. Bruce paused; he would never understand this kid's weird flavor preferences. He placed his hand on Dick's shoulder, calming the boy down somewhat. "Only if you calm down, okay, Dick?" he said.

Dick nodded, but Bruce could tell that his words had gone in one ear and out the other. Next time, he was letting Alfred take him out for ice cream. Soon they were at the counter, Bruce placing their order. The lady – Alisha, according to her name tag – smiled at Dick as she played with her blonde hair. "Sure thing, sweetie," she cooed, obviously taken in by Dick's bright blue eyes and cheerful face.

"Why do you have fake hair?" Dick asked suddenly, noticing the "subtle" addition of extensions and the telltale signs of artificial color. Alisha's smile froze, and Bruce winced inwardly. This was one of the reasons he hadn't taken Dick to any of his parties yet, despite the urging of the press… "We'll take that to go," Bruce said hastily, handing over his credit card. Alisha scowled, swiping it and handing Dick his ice cream reluctantly. Bruce led Dick to one of the outside tables quickly, much to the amusement of some of the other customers.

"Did I say something funny?" Dick asked around a mouthful of ice cream.

"Swallow first," Bruce reminded. Dick swallowed hastily, then winced.

"Brain freeze!" he cried, then relaxed, and started shoveling more ice cream into his mouth.

* * *

Five minutes later (Bruce still wasn't sure how Dick had finished it that quickly) Dick had, quite literally, licked his bowl clean, and ice cream smeared his face. Bruce handed Dick a napkin with an amused look, but Dick ignored it, content to perch on the back of his chair, glancing at everyone curiously as he grinned. Bruce then realized what he had done. He had _given_ _Dick sugar. _A lot of sugar. "Daddy, look what I can do!" Dick said cheerfully, flipping nimbly onto Bruce's shoulders. Bruce sighed. "Dick, what did I say about climbing on people?"

"To not to!" Dick responded cheerfully, making no move to get off. Instead, he giggled as he dangled upside down from Bruce's arm. "Richard," Bruce said.

Dick flipped off, much to the amazement of the people around. He bowed, grinning widely as a few clapped. "Time to go," Bruce announced, reaching for Dick's hand. Instead of taking it, Dick ran off eagerly, fueled by the surprising energy sugar offered. Bruce's navy eyes widened, and he reached out to stop Dick. "Dick!" he shouted. Not only were the streets clogged with traffic, but…this was _Gotham. _So many things could happen…

Fear coursed through his veins as his hand closed on empty air. "Dick!" he repeated. Quite a bit of distance between them, Dick turned around, still giggling. His smile faded as the squeal of tires filled the air. A white van pulled onto the sidewalk, braking roughly. Bruce's eyes widened, and he found himself running forward at a speed that would put Flash to shame. No…not another kidnapping attempt. Seriously, this was what? The second time this month? Dick, realizing this was serious, attempted to dash around the van, trying to reach Bruce.

A group of masked thugs poured out of the back, eliciting a small cry from the boy as they surrounded him. "DICK!" Bruce yelled.

Dick tensed, remembering the last time he had been kidnapped; not something he wanted to relive. However, it seemed he didn't have a choice. One thug attempted to grab him, Dick dodging with the skill of a circus acrobat, but Bruce could tell he was a bit shaky. Dick was just trying not to panic; first a shot, now this? If he was Robin, he could handle this easy. Unfortunately, he was stuck as Dick Grayson right now…he would have to rely on Bruce for help.

Strong arms wrapped around Dick's small body, and he kicked out wildly, flailing as he struggled to get away. "Daddy!" he cried, looking at Bruce. Dick's eyes noticed the gun pointing at Bruce, and Dick couldn't help but scream. "Duck!" he shouted as the gun fired. He had time to see Bruce's eyes widen before the gun was fired, the bullets slamming into Bruce's chest. Tears filled Dick's eyes, and he fought even harder to get away. "Daddy!" he screamed, tears beginning to fall.

Someone shoved a rag over his nose and mouth. Normally, Dick would've been focused enough to hold his breath, but he was too busy reliving his parents' death, and then seeing Bruce getting shot over and over in his head. Dick struggled, but the chemical scent overwhelmed him. Dick had just enough time to see Bruce move some before he sank into darkness.

* * *

_And Barry teases me for being paranoid, _Bruce thought bitterly as the bullets slammed into his body. The Kevlar vest he always wore underneath his suit had saved him from what definitely would've killed him; however, it had still stunned him. Bruce tried to take in a breath, struggling to sit up. _Dick, _he thought determinedly, finally sitting up. He was in time to see Dick, his _son, _now unconscious, be thrown roughly into the back of the white van, the thugs rushing in.

"Dick!" Bruce shouted, leaping up. The van sped off, his son inside.

Bruce immediately dashed to his car, but by the time he got there, it was too late. The white van was gone, lost amidst Gotham's alleys and back roads. Bruce climbed inside, breathing hard. _Hold on, Dickie-bird, _Bruce thought. _Hold on. _Not bothering to reassure the panicked civilians, he sped off towards the manor. Batman would get his Robin back.

* * *

Dick woke up slowly, keeping his breathing steady and body limp. Memories flooded back. The van pulling up, being grabbed, Bruce being shot…Bruce moving? Did…did that mean he was alive? Dick sure hoped so; in fact, he refused to accept the possibility that Bruce was…dead. It hurt even thinking it. No. He wouldn't lose another father…he _couldn't. _

Dick subtly tried to move, and found his hands bound behind his back, and his legs tied to the legs of…a chair? Yeah, he was tied to a chair. Cracking his eyes open, Dick quickly analyzed his surroundings. He was in some random abandoned warehouse that Gotham, frankly, had way too many of. Dick couldn't help but notice the cold feeling of fear seeping through him. Even as Robin, he wouldn't be able to get out of this easily. As Dick…he was stuck, until hopefully Br – Batman arrived.

Dick, hearing no movement or signs of life, decided this would be a perfect time to "wake up". Dick's blue eyes shot open, his breathing quickening. No one came, though he could make out muffled voices from another section of the warehouse. Dick tugged against the ropes tying his wrists together; it did nothing but chafe his skin, and he winced at the irritating sensation. He frowned, bottom lip sticking out slightly as his small face scrunched in thought. Who would've taken him? A no name criminal? Or someone like Two-Face, or the Joker.

Dick winced at that thought. He didn't want to face either one of them, especially not in his current situation. He pulled even more desperately against the ropes, the chafing increasing to the point where his skin started to bleed slightly. The red liquid dripped down his fingers, leaving a few tiny spots on the warehouse floor underneath him. Dick stopped, biting his lip as his wrists burned. "Hey, boss! I think the kid is awake!" a rough voice called.

Dick's head lifted, and he blinked back the tears that threatened to flood out. _Be strong, _he reminded himself. _Bruce will come. He always does. _He couldn't help but remember what had happened the last time he was kidnapped though. The details were a bit hazy, thanks to drugs and a concussion, but he had ended up in a hospital bed for a week or so. Not a pleasant experience, even when compared to the things he went through patrolling Gotham at night.

Dick sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He didn't succeed, and just tried to ignore it instead. A few thugs filtered into the room, and Dick's blue eyes studied them quickly. None of them were easily recognizable, and neither were any of their voices. It was probably some no name villain, then, just trying to get some serious cash. Dick shivered slightly; major villain or not, the fact that he had been kidnapped wasn't good.

"Good kidnappers would show their faces," Dick managed to get out, voice barely squeaking. He patted himself mentally on the back for a brief second for his acting skills before his mind returned to the realization that he had been kidnapped for…what was the third or fourth time now? And that wasn't including what he had been through as Robin, either. A thug leaned in, and Dick flinched away as a heavy blow slammed into his face. He swallowed the small cry of pain that threatened to slip out, instead just gasping slightly.

"Shut up!" the thug barked, pulling out a gun. He pointed it at the small boy. Dick stared into the dark hole with wide blue eyes, whatever color left in his face draining away rapidly. "Or I'll make you," he added with a sinister edge. Dick swallowed in relief as the gun was moved away, allowing his eyes to close briefly. He fought to keep back the tears that threatened to spill out, brought on by fear and pain.

"Time to say hi to daddy," another thug breathed in Dick's ear. Dick's eyes narrowed, and he noticed a small camera being set up nearby. Dick's heart skipped a beat as his chair was jerked to face the camera roughly. _A ransom video, _he thought, a cold trickle of fear creeping down his spine. He hated those things. A rag was shoved in his mouth, soon followed by a layer of duct tape, serving as an effective gag. Dick's blue eyes widened, breath catching as he tried not to panic.

The small light on the camera blinked on, and a masked thug stepped in, wielding a crowbar.

* * *

Bruce arrived back at the manor in record time, considering the traffic on the roads. He rushed to the Batcave immediately, face grim and determined. Alfred was already down there, looking every bit as grim as Bruce. "Master Bruce-"

"Richard's gone," Bruce interrupted. "He was kidnapped; I'm going out to find him."

"They sent a ransom video," Alfred informed, gesturing towards the rather large computer. Bruce scowled, immediately opening the "anonymous" email he had received. The subject was simply Richard's name, while the message itself listed their demands; two billion dollars. With growing trepidation, Bruce clicked the link to open the video.

Bruce flinched involuntarily as the crowbar first made contact with Dick's shoulder. Bruce forced himself to put on that emotionless, calm mask, even though everything inside of him was screaming at him to rip Gotham to shreds looking for his son. Dick's baby blue eyes looked at the camera, and Bruce saw the pain and fear in their tear-filled depths. Bruce let out a low growl; they would pay for this. He forced himself to continue watching, each blow to Dick's small body like a blow to his own heart.

Dick flinched as the crowbar was raised again, and Bruce's eyes narrowed as he noticed the bruise also forming on Dick's pale face. He looked so young, so small…he shouldn't have to be put through this. _It's my fault, _Bruce thought, guilt and anger sweeping through him. _I should have been more careful, I should have – _His thoughts were interrupted as Alfred placed a hand on his shoulder. As if reading his thoughts, the English butler simply said, "Don't blame yourself."

Bruce hesitated before giving a slight nod, barely noticeable. His face resumed the mask once again as he forced himself to finish watching the horrible video. Every second of it was horrible, but the worst part was when a particularly hard blow slammed into Dick's arm. His scream, though muffled, was heard quite clearly, and he writhed helplessly against the ropes holding him. Tears stained his pale cheeks, and he looked pleadingly at the camera. At Bruce.

Bruce turned the video off, beginning to track the video. Though it had been sent anonymously, with no specified origin, Bruce had ways to track it. Or rather, Batman did. In a few minutes, a location was confirmed; an abandoned warehouse near the docks. _I'm coming, Dick, _he thought fiercely as he sped the Batmobile towards the docks.

* * *

Dick whimpered, slumping against his bounds as pain thudded through his body. He was sure his arm was broken, and possibly his ribs. Everything felt bruised and battered, the occasional cut leaking blood onto his clothes. He squeezed his blue eyes shut, sniffling as more tears leaked out. He wanted to be strong…but honestly? Everything hurt, and he wanted nothing but to make it stop. Being beaten by a crowbar would do that.

"Shut up!" a thug growled, whacking Dick in the face with the butt of his gun. Dick let out a cry of pain despite his gag, fresh tears welling up in his baby blues. "I said shut up!" This time the thug elbowed Dick's broken arm. Dick couldn't help but scream, the pained sound muffled by the cloth and duct tape. The thug spat in disgust, raising a hand threateningly. Swallowing, Dick forced himself not to let out another sound, despite the pain that set his body on fire.

_Please hurry, _Dick pleaded silently, hoping Bruce was on his way. As if his thoughts were answered, Batman crashed through a window, not even bothering with stealth. Dick's tear filled blue eyes widened, pale face lighting up some despite the pain. His words were muffled and distorted, but the message was clear to Batman, who let out a low growl, giving the thugs his worst DaddyBats glare. They began shooting, Batman dodging easily, the white lenses of his mask narrowed into dangerous slits. He was mad – no, he was furious. And these pathetic excuses for human beings wouldn't stand in between him and his son.

Dick's heart skipped a beat as cold metal was pressed against his head. "Drop them or the kid gets it!" a thug barked, staring at Batman. Slowly, the Dark Knight let the batarangs clutched in his hands drop, falling to the floor with a small clang. The thug let the gun drop, but before Dick could get the chance to appreciate this, he shot the gun. The bullet didn't go through Dick's head or chest, instead lodging in his thigh. But it hurt – it felt like his leg was on fire. Dick screamed, the sound cutting through the air despite his gag.

Batman quickly grabbed another batarang, knocking out the thug with one fluid movement. The rest of the lackeys were dispatched with the same cold ease, and Batman didn't waste any time before untying Dick. Dick let out another scream, this time not muffled by the gag, as he was picked up. Tears left wet spots on the fabric of the Dark Knight's uniform, and Batman's eyes narrowed. If it weren't for Dick's injuries, every single criminal in the room would've been in a body cast for six months.

Dick, suffering now from blood loss and shock, slipped into blackness. Batman tensed as his son became unconscious, and he rushed towards the Batmobile at a speed that would put Flash to shame.

* * *

Dick woke up slowly, a soft moan slipping out. He cracked open his baby blue eyes, noticing he was in his room. It took the small boy a moment to remember why he was here and what had happened. When he did, a small gasp followed the moan, and he glanced around wildly. He quickly noticed his left arm was bound securely in a cast, and bandages were wrapped tightly around his ribs and the bullet wound in his thigh. Small bandages also covered the tiny cuts lining his arms. Dick winced as he struggled to sit up; his ribs were bruised badly at the very least.

Dick then noticed Bruce. "Daddy!" he cried suddenly, ignoring the pain as he flung himself at Bruce, wrapping his small arms around the man's neck. Bruce hugged the child back, his embrace firm and reassuring. Dick found tears trickling down his cheeks as he buried his face into Bruce's chest. "Th-they shot you," he whispered, that memory the first to fully surface. "I th-thought you were d-dead, j-just like th-them." The tears fell faster, gentle sobs shaking the boy's shoulders as he continued to hug Bruce, almost afraid to let go.

"Shh, Dick," Bruce soothed. "Shh, Dickie-bird. I'm here." He rubbed Dick's back soothingly, trying gently to calm the sobbing child. Dick sniffled, merely squeezing tighter. When his kidnappers had mentioned a ransom video, he had known Bruce was alive for sure…but that time where he was uncertain? Where he only had a small movement to provide hope? It had scared Dick more than he had first shown. "T-tati," he whispered shakily.

"I'm here," Bruce repeated. "I won't leave you."

"Promise?" Dick asked, pulling away slightly to look at Bruce with tear-filled blue eyes. Bruce didn't hesitate before responding. "I promise."

Dick gave a small smile before burying his face into Bruce's chest again, refusing to let go of his security blanket. He still hurt, and frankly, he was still scared. Bruce's arms around him, safe and reassuring, offered comfort.

They stayed like that for what felt like forever, father and son. Finally, Dick looked up at Bruce again, letting go with one hand for a hesitant moment to wipe away a lingering tear. "So…I guess we don't get to get ice cream anymore?" he asked, bottom lip beginning to stick out in that adorable pout. Bruce froze, knowing where Dick was heading. After a brief hesitation, he ran his fingers through Dick's dark hair. "How about we just let Alfred make cookies," he said finally.

Dick's pout turned into an accepting smile, and Bruce breathed a small sigh of relief as he hugged him back. No one was ever touching his little bird again.

* * *

**A/N **I just realized how many pagebreaks that had...sorry about that. o.o Yeah, I'm not entirely happy with how this came out, but in order to preserve my fading sanity, I'm just going to post it as is. Hopefully, you guys thought it was decent at least. Oh, I still need ideas! If you have any suggestions for the next chapter, please let me know. :D

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	3. Promisiune

**A/N **I'm bringing Wally and Roy into the story now. :D Some humor, then brotherly fluff. Not slash; just Wally and Roy being awesome friends. Anyway...thank you all so much for the reviews! Twenty already...that makes me feel amazing. Hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer **I don't own Spongebob, or Young Justice. I don't think I own chocolate milk right now either...hmm.

~Aiva

* * *

"Rooooy," Wally whined.

"No! There is no way on earth I am letting you have chocolate milk again!" Roy snapped.

"But-"

"Wally, the last time you had chocolate milk, you drank _two cartons, _and you were stuck running around the room until Barry got here. You. Are. Not. Having. Chocolate. Milk."

Dick laughed, slapping Wally a quick high five. "It was awesome, too," he grinned.

"No, it wasn't! He nearly vibrated through my floor!"

"Come on, it wasn't _that _bad," Wally tried. Roy simply pointed to a spot on his floor that had a suspicious looking burn mark on it. Wally's freckled cheeks flushed, and he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Dick just laughed again, looking thoroughly amused as he drank chocolate milk.

"Dick got some!" Wally protested. Roy's eyes widened, and he whirled around to find Dick now sitting on top of his fridge, glass of chocolate milk in hand. How he had gotten there so quickly, he didn't really want to know. "Dick! You're not allowed to have chocolate milk either!" Roy said, struggling and failing to get the acrobat down.

"One glass won't put me in a sugar high!" Dick protested, wiping away the milk mustache over his lip.

"It did last time."

"I was _nine!" _Dick protested, taking another sip of what actually wasn't his first glass. More like his seventh. Of course, Roy didn't have to know that…

"Because thirteen is so much older," Wally snorted teasingly. Dick's blue eyes narrowed, and he stuck his tongue out at Wally. "See?" Wally said, trying to hide his snickers. Dick launched himself off the fridge, flipping easily on to Wally's shoulders. The speedster immediately began to panic, flailing around wildly as he tried to throw the little bird off. It didn't work, and Dick just cackled as Roy rolled his eyes. Yeah, his "brothers" were crazy.

"Get off of me!" Wally shouted, trying to pry Dick off. A mischievous look growing in his blue eyes, the Boy Wonder complied, flipping on to Roy instead. He perched easily on the older ginger's shoulders, a smirk on his face as Wally glared at him with green eyes.

Roy sighed, knowing better than to try and dislodge Dick. It wouldn't work. Instead, he attempted to steer the younger teen away from the chocolate milk; who knew how many glasses he had had. It didn't work, and Dick immediately tugged on Roy's head. "Roy," he whined, "I need my chocolate milk."

"How about some orange juice?" Roy tried. Dick snorted, reaching for his chocolate-y beverage. He sipped it contently, still perched on Roy's shoulders. Roy rolled his eyes again; next time, they were staying at Wally's house. Bruce had already banned the manor from the three boys after an unfortunate incident in the Batcave that involved setting fire to the west wing, then a poorly executed attempt in the kitchen to make Jell-O. Somehow, they had managed to set fire to that too. With Jell-O. Even Bruce, the "world's greatest detective", wasn't able to figure out how they had managed to do that.

"Wait, how many glasses have you had?" Roy asked suspiciously. Dick froze, then shrugged. "…Two?" he tried. Roy's eyes narrowed, and he reached up, flipping the acrobat off of his shoulders. Dick landed easily, grabbing his chocolate milk off of the counter he had placed it on. "Dick, how many glasses?"

"Uh, I think this is my seventh. Or maybe it's my eighth. I lost count," Dick said with an innocent smile. Both Roy and Wally's eyes widened simultaneously, and they took a step back from the ninja in horror.

Wally quickly got over his dread, using his super speed to chug the whole carton in under 5 seconds, a new record. "If Dick gets that much, I get some too," he said. Roy gaped at the two boys, who were beginning to grin as the sugar kicked in, then briefly wondered if he had any sedatives left. Actually, he probably did.

"I took your sedatives, by the way," Dick said, as if reading his mind. He grinned cheekily, and Roy's eyes narrowed, suddenly wishing he had paid his insurance recently.

Wally grinned and slapped Dick a high five, and the two teens immediately raced off, leaving Roy to wonder who he should go after first; the speedster, or the ninja? With a shrug, he set off after Wally. At least he could see the ginger; Dick would probably be hiding the air vents or cabinets by now; Roy would have to go looking in an hour.

"Wally! Come back here!" the archer shouted as he ran out of the room.

"Never!" came the answering cry.

* * *

About an hour later, Wally was sitting contently in front of the couch, laughing randomly at Spongebob Squarepants. Why, Roy wasn't sure. But if the cartoon kept the speedster occupied, then he wasn't going to argue. Which meant he just had to find Dick. He found the ninja trying to steal cookies from his pantry. Roy's eyes narrowed, and he immediately grabbed Dick by the scruff of his neck. "Hey!" he yelped, struggling.

"Richard John Grayson," Roy growled, still out of breath and sweaty from chasing Wally.

"Ooooh, he used your full name," Wally called out in a sing-song voice. Dick and Roy glared at him simultaneously, and Dick took that opportunity to slip out of Roy's grasp, a cookie in his hand. Roy didn't hesitate before pulling out his bow and shooting an arrow carefully at his "younger brother". The arrow fired, and Dick's legs were soon tangled up in rope. "Roy! You just shot me!" Dick shouted.

"I didn't kill you, did I?" Roy retorted. Dick crossed his arms, glaring at Roy as he defiantly munched the cookie in his hand.

Wally's laughter could clearly be heard from the other room.

* * *

Finally, both teens were asleep on the couch. Roy looked at the clock; 1 a.m... Fairly early, considering how late they normally stayed up, but the sugar probably drained them of whatever energy they had. Roy, exhausted himself from chasing both of them around for over an hour, then chasing them down _again _once Dick shared his cookies (Roy blamed Alfred for that particular habit), collapsed on the couch next to Wally.

Wally was sprawled upside down, head flopped over the edge of the cough and arms wrapped tightly around a pillow. Soft snores periodically slipped out of his open mouth. Dick, for some reason, was asleep on top of the chair. Not in the chair; across the top. Why, Roy wasn't sure, but he had learned not to question why the little bird did some things long ago.

Dick suddenly let out a soft moan, and Roy shot up. _Please don't be another nightmare, _Roy thought, looking at the smaller boy with worried eyes. Of course, that plea was destroyed as a scream ripped its way out of Dick's throat. Wally immediately shot upright as Dick began thrashing, rolling into the actual chair as he screamed again. "Nu! Nu! Mami, Tati, nu pleca! Nu, nu sari! Te rog! Nu mă lăsa!"

"Nightmare?" Wally guessed, immediately moving to his brother's side. Roy nodded, struggling to comfort Dick. "Wally, pin his arms down," Roy instructed quickly. Wally nodded, obeying quickly; now was not the time for smart aleck remarks or stupid jokes. Right now, his brother needed him.

"Nu! Bruce! Nu sari, vei cădea prea! Nu mă lăsa! Nu! Wally! Roy! Vei muri prea! Te rog! Nu mă lăsa! NU!" Dick screamed, tears beginning to fall down his flushed cheeks. Wally let go, and he gathered Dick into a hug, trying to calm the terrified boy. He glanced at Roy, green eyes wide. He had heard their names...what was Dick dreaming?

"Shh, Dickie," Roy soothed, bringing his arms up to embrace Dick too. Dick sobbed, still struggling as he screamed. "It's okay, Dickie," Wally assured in as calm a voice as he could. "We're right here. Bruce is okay. None of us are leaving you."

"Nu! Ai căzut! Ai toate căzut, la fel cum au făcut-o! Te rog, nu pleca! Bruce, Wally, Roy! Nu pleca! Te rog!" Dick shrieked.

"Dick, calm down," Wally pleaded, Dick's tears beginning to stain his shirt. Recalling some of the Romani that Dick had tried to teach them, he continued. "Uh, prieten, Wally! Treziţi-vă, Dick."

Roy joined in. "Suntem aici," he whispered. "Suntem aici."

Dick whimpered, but woke up, blue eyes shooting open. He immediately latched on to Wally, sobbing forcefully. "Shh, Dickie. It's okay," Wally soothed. Roy rubbing Dick's back soothingly.

"But…but you fell," Dick sobbed, not caring that he was crying, not caring how weak he looked. He just wanted to feel better. "You left me. Cum au făcut-o." Fresh tears slid down Dick's cheeks, and his small frame trembled as he clutched Wally in a death grip.

"Dickie, we would _never _leave you," Roy promised.

"We're here for you, bro," Wally assured, worry clear in his voice. "Always will be."

"Promisiune?" Dick whispered. "Promise?" he repeated in English.

"Promise," Wally and Roy answered simultaneously. Dick nodded, still too upset to even smile. Instead, he clung to his "brothers", his family, comforted by the knowledge that they would never stop trying to keep their promise.

* * *

**A/N **I know Dick speaks Romani and not Romanian, but I couldn't find a Romani translator. So just pretend everything Romanian is actually Romani...that goes for future chapters too. ;) And if any of the translations are wrong...blame Google. XD

Translations:

Nu! Nu! Mami, Tati, nu pleca! Nu, nu sari! Te rog! Nu mă lăsa! = No! No! Mommy, Daddy, don't go! No, don't jump! Please! Don't leave me!

Nu! Bruce! Nu sari, vei cădea prea! Nu mă lăsa! Nu! Wally! Roy! Vei muri prea! Te rog! Nu mă lăsa! NU! = No! Bruce! Don't jump, you'll fall too! Don't leave me! No! Wally! Roy! You'll die to! Please! Don't leave me! NO!

Nu! Ai căzut! Ai toate căzut, la fel cum au făcut-o! Te rog, nu pleca! Bruce, Wally, Roy! Nu pleca! Te rog! = No! You fell! You fell, like they did! Please, don't go! Bruce, Wally, Roy! Don't go! Please!

Uh, prieten, Wally! Treziţi-vă, Dick. = Uh, friend, Wally! Wake up, Dick.

Suntem aici = We're here.


	4. Brothers

**A/N **Another "brother" story between Roy, Dick, and Wally. This one, actually, is focused more on Wally, but whatever. ;) Hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer **If I owned Young Justice, I wouldn't be canon-bashing right now.

~Aiva

* * *

Wally ducked into the kitchen, purposely trying to avoid Robin. Normally, he'd be out there causing mischief and wreaking havoc right alongside the acrobat who was like his little brother…but right now, he had to hide. Wally gingerly touched his freckled cheek, hissing as his fingers touched the still sore bruise. It was already fading thanks to Wally's fast healing, but it still wouldn't be gone for a while. And until then, he had to avoid Robin.

If it was just the first time, or even the fifteenth, at this point, Wally could play it off as a stupid mistake he was prone to making. But…the speedster doubted that would succeed again. He winced inadvertently as a flashback washed over him.

* * *

_Alcohol was clear on Rudolph West's voice as he leaned in close, a threatening glint in his unfocused eyes as he looked at his son. Wally, currently pressed up against a wall, was unable to move away. Even if he could, that would only make his dad madder. The fact that he was drunk didn't help anything._

_Wally was forced to take the blows as his dad hit him. He would sometimes put effort into hiding what he had done, usually hitting only Wally's shoulders and sides. But, drunk as he was, he lashed out, hitting Wally's face. Immediately, the ginger's cheek began to burn, and Wally blinked back tears. As Kid Flash, even as Wally West sometimes, he could take a punch to the face and be fine. But…when it was his dad who was hitting him, rather than a villain or a bully…it somehow made every blow hurt much more._

_Wally sucked in a breath, gritting his teeth as he blinked back his tears. Crying, as he had learned, only made things worse. Finally, Rudolph staggered away. Wally slumped to the floor, bringing his knees to his chest as he shivered._

* * *

"Wally?" Robin called out curiously, noticing the speedster's fiery red hair. Wally's head shot up, green eyes wide and alarmed. Robin's eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses as he noticed the bruise on his friend's face, and his suspicious actions. "What happened?" he asked.

"I…tripped," Wally explained lamely, refusing to meet the Boy Wonder's eyes. _Dang it, _he thought silently.

"Uh huh," Robin responded, doubt clear in his voice. "Over what?"

"The stairs," Wally elaborated. "I tripped up the stairs, and whacked my face. No big deal."

"And did you hit your arm too?" Robin asked. Wally adjusted his shirt, cursing his loose-fitting civvies. "Yeah," he said quietly.

"You know, you can trust me," Robin said. Wally knew that behind his glasses, Robin's blue eyes were concerned and warm. "I know," Wally responded, voice slightly softer.

"Then why are you lying?"

"I'm not lying!" the speedster protested quickly.

Robin raised an eyebrow, and began counting on his finger. "You claimed you fell out of a tree three times. I can actually believe that. You've fallen off your bike, run into a wall twice, and this is also your second time using the stair excuse. C'mon, Wally. It doesn't take a detective to figure out that something else is going on."

"I'm just clumsy!" Wally insisted.

"But that still doesn't explain your actions," Robin pointed out. He reached a hand out towards Wally, and, not expecting this, the redhead flinched away violently. "See?" Robin added. Wally's cheeks flushed, and without hesitating, Robin jerked Wally's sleeve up, eyes narrowing as he saw the numerous bruises lining Wally's arm.

"That's not just being clumsy, Wally." Normally, Robin wasn't so serious when talking with his best friend…but he could tell there was something wrong. This wasn't the time to joke around and slaughter the English language. No, this was the time to get to the bottom of what was going on.

"Rob…it's nothing, I swear," Wally said.

"Wally, do your parents abuse you?" The question came so fast that Wally was taken aback. _Darn his detective skills, _he thought a bit angrily. "'Course not," Wally said, scoffing slightly at the query. But Robin had noticed the speedster's hesitation, the way his green eyes had widened fractionally and the way his body had tensed, which confirmed his suspicions.

"Wally, you can tell me. I know something is going on…just tell me," Robin said, voice taking on a slightly pleading edge. Wally hesitated, but he didn't really see how he could continue denying it any longer. Robin had already figured it out, and he would only investigate and pester him further if Wally continued to protest. "Yes," he finally whispered.

Robin immediately found himself hugging his "older brother", offering some comfort to Wally, who was now fighting tears again. Robin's eyes narrowed; if it was that bad, something would have to be done…immediately. And he knew just the person to call. "I'm sorry, Wally," he responded. "You're parents-"

"My dad," Wally interrupted quickly. "Just my dad."

Robin nodded, and Wally pulled away. He did feel better though; it seemed his "younger brother" always knew how to make him feel better, even if it was only slightly. "Thanks, Rob," he sighed. Then his green eyes hardened slightly. "You can't tell anyone. Especially not Uncle Barry," he said firmly.

"Wally-" Robin began, but was cut off.

"No! You can't tell anyone!" Wally interrupted. Robin hesitated, then nodded. Wally relaxed, breathing a small sigh of relief. "Thanks, Rob," he repeated.

Robin allowed himself to smirk, trying to distract the speedster. "No prob," he said. A mischievous glint came into his eyes, clear even with the sunglasses. "I have COD in my room-" he began.

"Yes! Let's go!" Wally interrupted, green eyes lighting up as he sped out of the room. It seemed as if Robin would let this go for now…good. Wally breathed a sigh of relief, knowing his secret would be kept. How wrong he was.

* * *

"Roy! I need to talk to you," Dick said. Roy, who was currently flipping through tv channels, jumped slightly. How Dick had gotten into his apartment without him knowing, he had no idea. "Dick, how did you get in? I thought-"

"I know where you hide your key," Dick interrupted, waving away the question. His voice was urgent, and his blue eyes were focused on Roy. Roy's eyes narrowed. "What's wrong?" he asked quickly.

"Wally," Dick responded quickly. Roy immediately leapt off the couch, reaching for his bow and car keys. "What happened? Is he hurt? Who did it?" he asked quickly. _I'm going to kill the person who decided to touch my baby brother, _he thought determinedly.

"He's fine," Dick assured, then frowned. "Well, sorta. He isn't seriously injured, anyway."

"Dick. What. Happened," Roy breathed, still tense.

Dick hesitated, then the words spilled awkwardly out of his mouth. "Wally's parents are…abusive," he began. "His dad hits him and-"

"WHAT?" Roy exploded, gripping his bow so tightly Dick was surprised it didn't snap. "Why didn't he tell me? How long has this been going on?" he demanded.

"He didn't even tell me; I figured it out myself," Dick interrupted, trying to calm the archer down, though he wanted to go out and mercilessly exact revenge on Wally's parents too. "He made me promise not to tell anyone."

"That's it; we're leaving," Roy announced angrily, stalking towards the door.

"Where, exactly?" Dick asked, leaping forward to catch up to the archer.

"Central City."

* * *

When Wally got home, he was met by a rather unpleasant surprise. His father, of course, was drunk again. Beer bottles were strewn across the floor, and alcohol was heavy on the man's breath. Rudolph didn't waste time before slamming his son against a wall, the movement somewhat sluggish. "Wait, Dad, I-" Wally's desperate words were cut off as his dad roughly smacked the side of his head. He wasn't sure what had caused his dad to be this angry; all he knew was he was about to take a serious beating.

It was horrible. When Rudolph was done, Wally was left curled up into a bloodied ball in a corner, trembling slightly. Fresh bruises marred his skin, and one eye was blackened. Blood was beginning to drip from his nose, and it leaked from a few other cuts as well, results of a recent mission that had opened up whenever he had been hit. Silent tears welled up in Wally's eyes, and he wrapped his arms tighter around himself.

All of the sudden, the door was shoved open. Wally's eyes shot open as Robin and Red Arrow came bursting in through the open door, before Red Arrow shoved it closed behind him, fury radiating off of him. Robin looked angry too, a threatening edge to every movement that wasn't usually there. Wally raised his head, green eyes widening in surprise, then betrayal. _He said he wouldn't tell! _Wally shouted silently. That thought was wiped away when he realized what his brothers had done for him. They had saved him from the rest of what was already a brutal beating; seriously, he had had fewer injuries after facing down Clayface that one mission.

Red Arrow aimed an arrow at Rudolph, while Robin wasted no time in pulled out a few birdarangs. "We don't appreciate people who abuse their kids," Red Arrow growled, sounding menacing and dark. Wally's eyes widened further, and he glanced from his dad back to the red-clad vigilante repeatedly. Robin threw the birdarangs, which pinned Rudolph West to the wall. He let out his familiar cackle, though this one had a darker edge. He was angry. Really angry.

"This is none of your business!" Rudolph said, words slurred. Robin's nose crinkled in disgust as he smelled the alcohol on the man's breath. He glanced at Wally as Red Arrow continued to threaten. "You okay?" he asked quietly. Wally nodded, wiping away some of the blood on his face with the back of his hand. "Yeah," he said, voice a bit hoarse.

"-and if you ever touch him again…" Roy left the threat hanging, instead releasing his arrow. It lodged in the wall a few inches away from Rudolph's head, and the man's eyes widened. "Gotta go, Red," Robin pointed out. Red Arrow relaxed the tension on the bow string reluctantly, putting back the arrow he had already pulled out. "Fine. But we'll be keeping an eye on you," he threatened, glaring at Rudolph with an intensity that was almost rival the Batglare. Robin _did _give him the Batglare, and then released a few smoke pellets.

The vigilantes were gone as the smoke cleared.

* * *

Dick was back at Roy's apartment when a knock came on the door. Dick glanced at Roy questioningly, and the older teen shrugged, opening the door. He was slightly surprised to see a familiar ginger standing there. "Hey, guys. Zeta'd here," Wally said, voice still a bit hoarse. He cleared his throat awkwardly as he stepped inside Roy's apartment.

Dick was immediately there with a first aid kit, his eyes narrowing as he started bandaging Wally up. Wally tried to shake him off. "Dick, I'm fine," he insisted. One look from the younger teen shut him up. "Thanks, Dick," he said instead. He glanced at Roy. "You too, Roy boy," he added with a slight grin. Roy scowled slightly at that particular nickname, but his expression soon softened as he walked over to Wally. "You okay?" he asked.

Wally nodded. "Yeah. Just a bit sore," he added as both Roy and Dick stared at him skeptically. He gave a small chuckle. "I think you scared my dad pretty bad."

Roy scoffed. "He deserved it," he responded, obviously still angry about the whole thing. "Why'd you keep it a secret?" he finally asked.

"I…I thought I could handle it. It was my dad, my problem," Wally explained lamely.

"Dude…that excuse sucks," Dick put in helpfully.

"Thanks, Dick."

"No problem," Dick responded with his usual smirk. Wally grinned, and soon Roy was smiling as well. "Tell us next time," Roy demanded.

"I will," Wally promised, and both Dick and Roy immediately relaxed.

"We'll be there in a heartbeat," Dick replied.

"I know," Wally grinned. After all, what else were brothers for?

* * *

**A/N **Yeah, I know Dick was waaay more serious than normal. My excuse? He just found out his best friend, who was like his older brother, was being abused by his dad. Yeah. Anyways, I have some stuff already written up, but I'm letting you decide what you want to read next.

Would you prefer hurt/comfort, or humor? Please review and let me know!


	5. Can I Keep Him?

**A/N **Alright, this one is a humor one. ^^ Sorry it's so short; I just had no idea how to make it longer, and this plot bunny was merciless...hope you enjoy anyway!

**Disclaimer **(noun) A mean word that keeps me from my dream of owning Young Justice

~Aiva

* * *

"Pleeeaaase?" Dick pleaded, blue eyes wide and face arranged into an adorable pout.

"No," Bruce responded without missing a beat.

"But-"

"No," Bruce repeated. Dick pouted further. "It's a puppy!" he argued, as if that was a good enough reason. He showed the tiny dog to Bruce, giggling as it nibbled his fingers lightly. "See?" he continued, his face settling back into that adorable pout.

"We're not getting a dog."

"Please?" Dick pleaded, blue eyes big as he used all of his nine-year-old cuteness to his advantage.

"…No," Bruce said, forcing the words out as he fought the temptation of the young acrobat's pleading eyes, now a bit tear-filled.

"Awww…." Dick pouted, shoulders drooping as he walked slowly away, the puppy clutched lovingly in his small arms.

* * *

"Can I keep him?" Dick asked eagerly. Bruce sighed as he saw the small gray cat held in the young boy's arms. He quickly averted his gaze, knowing one look at Dick's pleading blue eyes would make his resolve crumble.

"No," Bruce said, briefly wondering where Dick was finding all of these homeless animals.

"Please?"

"No," he repeated. Dick tugged persistently on Bruce's sleeve, trying to get him to look down. Bruce resisted the urge to comply, simply saying "no" again.

"Fine…" Dick mumbled, disappointment clear as he trudged away, stroking the cat's fluffy head.

* * *

"Dick, I don't know where you got that squirrel, but we're not keeping it."

"Please?"

"No."

* * *

Dick ran up to Bruce, tiny hands clasped around something. Excitement shone in his blue eyes; this time, Bruce _had _to say yes. "No, Dick," Bruce said, not bothering to look at the young acrobat.

"But it's a bird!"

"No."

"But…but…it's a _robin,"_ Dick stressed. "You have a Robin. I want a robin too."

_Dang it, _Bruce thought, thinking fast. "One Robin is enough," he finally answered. Dick frowned, shoulders drooping in disappointment.

* * *

It was rather late, and Bruce decided to check on Dick. Opening the door to the boy's room, Bruce froze as he saw what was going on inside.

Dick was sitting in the middle of his bed, now looking guiltily at Bruce. A puppy was curled up beside him on top of a pile of chewed up blankets. Bruce was certain it was the reason there was shreds of fabric and other unidentified substances strewn all around the formerly clean room. A familiar gray cat was on the headrest of the bed, the formerly smooth surface now marred by claw marks (along with the curtains). The squirrel was racing and leaping through the room, a little blur of fur. The robin was flying around, occasionally swooping low, brushing Dick's head and ruffling his dark locks, making the boy giggle.

"Dick," Bruce said, a warning note in his voice. Pleading blue eyes looked back at him, and Bruce sighed. "Fine," he agreed reluctantly, "Just for tonight." A smile lit up Dick's face as he was practically bouncing up and down with excitement. "Thank you!" he exclaimed, cheerfully stroking the puppy with his tiny hands.

Bruce left Dick with the animals, wondering what he had gotten himself into.

* * *

**A/N **So yeah, short, but Dick is kinda adorable in this one...and I can totally see him going through this stage. ^^

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	6. Fortunes

**A/N **For theotakuprincessofgotham who asked for "dick to play fortune teller like gypsies do and he messes with roy and wallys head with therw fortunes that would be hilarious! xD or one where dick shows his thevery skill as a stearotype gypsy and steal like umm roys wallet are something xD"

**Disclaimer **Hmm...I wonder if I own Young Justice in the future? I'll ask Bart *leaves then returns* He says no. D:

~Aiva

* * *

"I'm bored," Wally announced through a mouthful of chocolate. He swallowed, then repeated himself. "I'm really bored."

"You could always go wash my car," Roy suggested.

Wally paused, then shot the older ginger a look. "I'm not _that _bored."

"Roy…where's the sugar?" Dick asked, head peeking over the open fridge door.

"After last time? Nowhere you can get it," Roy answered. Dick frowned, then pointed at Wally. "He got some!" he protested.

"Dude, I had to bring this myself," Wally said.

"Can I have some?" Dick asked. Wally, in response, licked the entire thing. Dick glared at the speedster, then turned back to Roy. "Please? Just a cookie? One glass of chocolate milk?"

At the mention of chocolate milk, the archer took a step back in horror. "No. No way you are _ever _having that here again," Roy said firmly, forced to look away as Dick began using his puppy-dog eyes…those things were deadly.

"Darn it," Dick mumbled.

"Ooh, I know!" Wally piped up. "We can play truth or dare!"

"NO!" Roy shouted. "Last time we played that, I got dared to replace the Bat signal with the troll face. And then I got a visit from Batman…" His voice trailed off as he remembered that particular conversation; not something he wanted to relive. Wally and Dick were cracking up, leaning on each other for support as they remembered that too. "Hey, at least it wasn't that one time where we dyed Flash, Green Arrow, and Batman's uniforms hot pink," Dick said with a grin.

This set off a fresh round of laughter, Roy joining in as well. _That _had been priceless…they still had the pictures too. "Best. Patrol. Ever," the three boys said simultaneously, then laughed even harder.

"Okay, so no more truth or dare…" Wally began.

"We can tell fortunes!" Dick suggested, a mischievous excitement beginning to shine in his blue eyes.

Wally and Roy stared at the younger teenager for a moment. "Fortune telling? Seriously?" Wally responded with a snort.

"Raised in a circus, pretty much a gypsy…yeah, I'm serious," Dick said, the mischievous glint in his eyes growing. Roy and Wally exchanged looks, then shrugged. "Why not," Roy said.

Dick shut the fridge door, racing into the living room area and vaulting over the couch. He settled on the floor, legs crossed and a wide grin on his face. "Me first!" Wally shouted, using his super speed to dash forward.

He ended up skidding to a clumsy halt that bowled Dick over. The two were soon tangled in a knot of limbs, Roy laughing at the sight. Dick finally managed to shove Wally off of him, glowering. "Smooth, Wally," he said. "Smooth."

Wally stuck his tongue out, causing Dick to cackle as he settled back into his former position. "Give me your hand," Dick instructed. Wally immediately stuck his hand in Dick's face. The younger teenager moved quickly, and Wally pulled back with a small yelp.

"Did you just _bite _me?" he cried, drawing his hand close to his body as he studied it. "You're going to give me rabies!"

"If I don't suffer from some rare disease first," Dick retorted, a smirk on his face.

"Roy! Help me out here!"

"You shouldn't have stuck your hand in his face," Roy responded with a grin.

Wally glared at the two, an indignant look on his face as he stood. "I changed my mind. Roy can go first," he announced. Roy shrugged, sitting down in front of Dick, holding out his hand. Dick didn't bother taking it, instead studying Roy's face carefully.

The archer shifted uncomfortably under Dick's gaze. "You have a date Friday?" he asked suddenly. Roy blinked in surprise, then nodded. "Yeah," he answered warily. "Why?"

"It's going to go horribly," Dick answered, standing up. "That's your fortune."

Roy stared at the acrobat in disbelief. "Really? That's all? I'm going to have a crappy date? What happened to reading my palm, looking at my life line and all that?" he asked.

"Didn't need to," Dick shrugged.

Wally was on the floor laughing again, clutching his stomach. "That…says so much…about you…Roy," he managed to get out between giggles.

"Shut up," the archer responded with a glare. Wally didn't react, just laughing harder. Roy's glare strengthened, and he stalked over to the fridge. He returned with a package of frozen peas, which he threw at the speedster's head. They made contact, hitting with a dull thwack.

"Hey!" Wally cried indignantly, rubbing his head as he glared at Roy.

It was Dick's turn to fall to the ground laughing.

* * *

_Friday night._

"Hey, Lauren," Roy greeted, staring at the tall blonde girl with a rather dreamy expression. She smiled back at him, taking his arm with a light hand. "Hi, Roy," she responded cheerfully. "So where are we going?"

Roy opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off as a small object hit the back of his head. "What the-" he said, looking around for the source. His gaze soon fell upon the mostly hidden forms of two teenagers, and his eyes narrowed.

Another spitball crashed into him, this time sticking to his face. Lauren glanced at him, confused. "Roy? What's going on?" she asked.

Somewhat stifled laughter carried over to them as another spitball hit, this time striking Lauren. She plucked it off of her skirt with a confused frown. "Roy?" she repeated.

"It's nothing," Roy assured her. "Just some of my _idiot friends!"_ he shouted the last two words, and was rewarded to hear a muffled "Hey!" in response.

That's when the water balloons hit. Roy instinctively shielded Lauren from the worst of it; however, the beautiful blonde still got splashed quite a bit. Roy was absolutely drenched, and steam was practically coming out of his ears. "Maybe we should reschedule," Lauren said, eyes wide as she stared into the darkness, her blonde locks darkened somewhat by water. She slipped back inside, and Roy gritted his teeth.

He immediately ran in the direction he knew they were "hiding", a glare almost as intense as the Batglare fixed on his face. "I'm going to get you!" he shouted.

"It was your fortune!" Wally called back in a sing-song voice as they continued to laugh. Roy groaned, wanting to face-palm. This was the last time he ever got his fortune from a Bat.

* * *

**A/N **Small note; I don't agree with stereotyping, it was just a request, and I don't think they were trying to be rude by it either...so no one take this offensively, okay? ;) (Though I'm not completely sure why it would be really offensive...oh well) Anyway, hope you enjoyed! I already have the next chapter planned, but I'm still open to requests for the future chapters.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	7. Apples to Apples

**A/N **I honestly have no idea where this came from. I just opened up my computer at around 1 in the morning, and this came out...yeah.

**Disclaimer **I don't own Young Justice, Wii, or Apples to Apples. Now that I think of it, I don't think I own pickles or salt and vinegar chips right now either.

~Aiva

* * *

Dick vaulted over the back of the couch, landing easily on the cushions on the other side. A wide grin was on his face, which immediately made Roy wary. He knew that grin…every time it appeared, it was either his house or some other unsuspecting structure that was destroyed or mutilated. Sure, that one time they had painted the Batmobile with glow in the dark paint had been incredibly amusing, but it was always _him _who took most of the blame. So, needless to say, Roy took a step back upon seeing that expression on Dick's face.

"No! We're not dying Green Arrow's uniform pink, or replacing his arrows with fruit, or-" Roy immediately shouted.

"Roy, relax," Dick interrupted, pulling out a colorful box. "I just wanted to play Apples to Apples."

"Apples to Apples?" Wally repeated eagerly, head peeking over the refrigerator door. He was immediately at the younger boy's side, green eyes shining with excitement as he shoved the rest of the pickle in his mouth. Dick's grin widened at the speedster's obvious excitement. "Yep," he confirmed.

Roy hesitated, then realized they couldn't get into much trouble with a card game. Hopefully. He sat down on the floor, Wally immediately following suit. "Let's do this!" he cheered as Dick flipped off of the couch. He dealt cards quickly and efficiently, then looked at the two gingers expectantly. "Who wants to judge first?" he asked mischievously.

"Not it!" Wally and Dick suddenly cried, somehow managing to speak simultaneously. Roy groaned, then began to flip over a green card.

"Wait!" Wally interrupted. He disappeared in a blur of color and was back in two seconds, arms laden with random snacks and soda. Roy didn't know he even _had _that much food; he'd have to restock after Wally left. "We need snacks," he explained, plopping back down into his spot. He immediately shoved another pickle into his mouth, while Dick popped open a soda and took a large sip. Roy shrugged, opening a bag of chips.

"Flip it!" Dick prompted, and Roy turned the card over.

"Expensive," he read out. Wally snickered, shooting a pointed look at Dick, who elbowed him in his side as he laid down a red card. Wally stuck out his tongue, then slapped his own card down as well. Roy picked them up, studying them carefully. He raised an eyebrow at Wally. "Kittens?" he asked.

"They cost a lot!" Wally protested defensively. Dick was laughing, which only increased as Roy raised an eyebrow. "Teletubbies, Dick? Really?"

"Copyrights!" Dick explained through his laughter.

Roy resisted the urge to facepalm, then tossed the green card to Wally. "Kittens win," he said. Wally began a small form of a sitting victory dance that _did _make Roy facepalm, and made Dick elbow his side again. "Hey!" Wally yelped, pelting him with a salt and vinegar chip.

"That's nasty!" Dick protested, dodging it easily. He hated salt and vinegar, a fact Wally knew.

"Okay! It's Wally's turn to judge!" Roy announced loudly, interrupting what soon would have evolved into a food fight.

"Yes!" Wally said, flipping over the green card cheerfully. "Dirty," he read out.

"Darn it!" Dick suddenly said.

"What?" Wally asked, glancing at the younger boy.

Dick grinned impertinently, then explained. "They don't have a Wally West card."

Roy snickered along with Dick as Wally glared at the two. "Just play," he grumbled, which of course, made the two laugh harder. Roy tossed down his card, soon followed by Dick, who was still cackling.

Wally read out the cards. "Cows and…cotton candy? What the muffins?"

"What the muffins?" Dick repeated, raising an eyebrow as his blue eyes danced with mirth.

"At least I didn't play _cotton candy," _Wally retorted.

"It was the only good card!" Roy broke in defensively. Wally and Dick collapsed laughing, leaning on each other for support as they looked at the red-faced ginger. "How…is that…a good…card?" Wally asked, gasping.

"I don't know!" Roy shouted. "At least I didn't play teletubbies!" Of course, that just made Wally and Dick laugh harder. Roy huffed in frustration, laying down the rest of his cards. "That's it, we're sticking to-"

"We need to play the Wii!" Dick shouted, standing up eagerly, producing a Wii from somewhere. Roy and Wally stared at him in awe; how many games did he have, and where exactly was he keeping them? Then again, he was a Bat. Sometimes, it was best not to ask.

Well, they played the Wii. Somehow, that ended up with Wally getting a minor concussion, and them building pillow forts and chucking random food items at each other. Wally had been feeling dizzy for a total of ten minutes before he announced that his accelerated healing had finished its job and he was fine. That's when he had thrown a pickle at Dick, scowling about the fact that the ninja had accidentally hit him in the back of the head during a violent game of tennis.

Of course, Dick had dodged, meaning Roy had been struck by the pickle. The archer had immediately started pelting the speedster with crackers, and Dick joined in just for the fun of it. "You, know, it's all fun and games 'till someone gets hurt," Dick laughed as he dodged a flying cookie. "Then it's hilarious." As Dick was hit in the eye with a salt and vinegar chip, he glared at the two gingers, not sure who it had come from. "Nevermind," he grumbled.

"No, you're right," Roy grinned.

"It _is _hilarious," Wally finished.

Soon, all three were on the floor laughing.

* * *

**A/N **Once again, no idea where this came from. *shrugs* Oh well.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	8. Patrol

**A/N **This chapter is basically three different moments when Robin is on patrol. The names bolded and italicized are who he's on patrol with, to clarify, and mark the beginning of each new section.

**Disclaimer **Robin, why don't you do the honors?

Robin: Uh, okay. Aiva doesn't own Young Justice.

~Aiva

* * *

**_Bruce_**

"Remember the ground rules," Batman's voice came over the comm piece. Robin let out a slight huff of annoyance; he already been through this four times, not including the double check Alfred had put him through. It wasn't even his first patrol! Granted, he was a nine year old running around Gotham at night, but still. He was trained, he had done this before. Besides, he was nine _and three quarters. _In his mind, that made a huge difference.

"I've got it, Batman," Robin assured. In his head, he silently added, _"The first five times."_ Silence came over the line, and Robin assumed that Batman was satisfied; well, for now. A similar question would probably be asked within the next ten minutes. Unless, of course, they were interrupted. A shrill scream came from one of the alleyways below.

Robin could already see Batman moving towards the sound out of the corner of his eye, and the small boy moved to follow. Pulling out his grappling gun, he swung down ahead of his mentor to see a lady in a tight red dress surrounded by four or so thugs, two with guns already out. Robin felt that rush of adrenaline sweep through his veins, and he moved to pull out one of his birdarangs. Quicker than his trained eye could follow, the trigger was pulled.

The lady stopped screaming.

The familiar laugh that was about to bubble up in Robin's throat died quickly, replaced by shock and horror. Blood oozed slowly from a small dark hole in the woman's forehead, her glazed eyes unseeing as she collapsed on the ground lifelessly. Robin froze, young mind trying to put words to what had happened. He couldn't find any.

Batman growled from behind him, taking out the four thugs with well-placed batarangs. He tied them up, although they were already unconscious. A strike from Batman did that to most people. He quickly turned to see Robin staring at the woman on the ground, eyes wide behind his domino mask and face pale. The Dark Knight, noting no one was around, wasted no time in wrapping his arms around the small boy that had become a son to him.

"Shh, Robin," he hushed. Even with his low, growling Batman voice, he managed to sound gentle when talking to his little bird. "It's okay."

"N-no, it isn't," Robin whispered, burying his face into Batman's chest as tears began to stream slowly from his eyes. "She d-died. We-we're supposed t-to stop that!" He began to tremble slightly. He couldn't help but compare the glazed look in the woman's eyes to the way his mother had looked after…after she had fallen. Their eyes were the exact same color, too.

Batman, knowing what his protégé was thinking, wrapped his cape around the small boy, offering him a small light of comfort amidst Gotham's darkness. "We try, Robin. Sometimes we can't help everyone though," he responded.

"What's the point then?" Robin managed to get out, voice muffled slightly. "People still die, even with us out here."

"We do save people, Robin. We save them every night. We give people hope," Batman answered, voice as soothing as possible, as he rubbed the small boy's back, reminded yet again of how _young _Robin was.

"We didn't save them," Robin whispered sadly. Batman may appear emotionless, but he did have a heart. And he felt it crack at the grieved edge to the child's voice. His son's voice. "I know, Robin. I'm sorry," Batman said softly. "I'm sorry."

Robin just wrapped his arms around Batman even tighter, letting out muffled sobs. Batman headed back towards the Batmobile, wondering why Robin, why Richard, had to grow up so fast. He deserved a childhood, complete with loving parents. Too bad happy endings rarely happened in Gotham; Batman was determined to give Robin a happy ending though. He deserved it.

* * *

**_Roy/Wally_**

"Please, Roy?" Dick and Wally pleaded simultaneously. "Pleeeaaase?"

Roy scowled, staring firmly at the ground. He wouldn't give in; not only would Bruce kill him, but it was stupid to go out with a hyper ninja and an impulsive speedster if he had to watch them both. As long as he didn't look into their eyes, he would be fine. He could resist.

Dick tugged on his sleeve pitifully. "Roy." His voice was so soft and sad Roy couldn't help but glance up. He winced, looking away quickly, but it was too late. He already met those irresistible baby blues, now filled with tears. He couldn't say no now. "…Fine," Roy grumbled. "But you have to do what I say! If you're going to help patrol my city, I'm in charge."

"YES!" Wally and Dick cheered. Roy face-palmed; he had the feeling that they hadn't even bothered listening to what he had just said.

A few moments later, all three were clad in their hero costumes, Roy adjusting his yellow hat slightly and Dick fidgeting with his belt. "Canwegonow? Canwegonow?" Wally, now Kid Flash, asked, his speech slurring into super speed as he tugged on Roy's quiver impatiently. Roy – Speedy – scowled, but nodded. "Yeah. But-"

He was cut off as Wally dashed out of the room in a blur. He turned to at least finish his thought to Robin, but the acrobat was already gone. Roy sighed as he followed his crazy "brothers". This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Bruce ended up arriving earlier than Ollie. Much to his concern, no one was home…meaning that an irresponsible archer had probably taken his kid out on patrol. Bruce's face immediately took on a scowl and a DaddyBats glare as he pulled up the tracking signal he had planted on Robin. He immediately started driving there, deciding it would be much better if they dealt with Batman rather than Bruce. Batman was more intimidating, after all.

And Batman could maul people if necessary.

* * *

Robin was the only one to hear Batman coming. He turned around cheerfully. "Hi, Batman!" he chirped. Immediately, Speedy froze, Kid Flash dashing away to a safer spot behind Robin. Batman wouldn't hurt Robin, so…if he was behind the bird, he might not get hurt. "Uh…yeah. Hey, Batman," Speedy added weakly as he was treated to the DaddyBats glare. Rebellious teenager or not, even he couldn't stand up to the paralyzing terror of that particular glare.

"What exactly do you think you're doing?" Batman asked coldly.

"We're going on patrol!" Robin said cheerfully. "You're back early," he added.

"They made me!" Speedy protested as Batman raised an eyebrow. "And they're not hurt!" Batman just continued to glare, Robin leaping into his arms, apparently immune to Batman's terrifying scowls. Kid Flash let out a squeak and quickly hid behind Speedy.

"Can we hang out with Speedy again?" Robin asked, tugging on Batman's cape slightly. Batman looked down at Robin's pleading face. "Maybe," Batman finally responded. Robin peeped his head up from over Batman's shoulder and flashed Speedy and Kid Flash a thumbs up.

All three boys shared a grin. They were unstoppable.

* * *

**_Wally_**

"So, how many times have you been kidnapped again?" Kid Flash asked quietly, tugging against his bonds experimentally. Robin had already loosened one wrist considerably, and was working on getting it free. He continued to twist and bend it as his brow furrowed in thought. "I'm…not sure," Robin answered. It didn't help that he was often kidnapped as Dick Grayson too. It seemed he was a target no matter what. "I lost count."

"That's…sad, Rob. Really sad," Kid Flash responded, wondering if he could vibrate out of duct tape and rope. Remembering that Robin was beside him and the friction would most likely burn him, Kid Flash decided against it for the moment.

Batman had allowed Kid Flash to accompany Robin on patrol, only because Wally was already staying over, there was an emergency involving the Joker on the other side of Gotham that Batman didn't want Robin anywhere near, and Robin had begged to go out. Of course, Robin wouldn't be allowed to go on patrol without Batman any time soon now….stupid kidnappers.

"Hey, not my fault," Robin responded, wriggling his wrist fiercely. A small grin of triumph slid across his face and he immediately peeled the duct tape off the other wrist. "Great! Now untie me!" Kid Flash said impatiently.

"Shh!" Robin hissed. "They think we're still unconscious!"

"Oh. Sorry," Kid Flash whispered, voice considerably softer as Robin untied him. The speedster stood eagerly when he was freed, ready to race out of the abandoned warehouse right then. Robin held up a hand to stop the impatient ginger. "Wait; I need to check if there are any guards outside and-" It was then Robin remembered they had taken his belt.

He frowned. "We have to find my utility belt," he whispered. Kid Flash sighed, then brightened. "I can go look for it; be back in a second!" he said.

"Wait, KF-" Robin began, but the speedster was already gone. Sometimes, Robin really wondered about the Flashes. He was already sneaking out of the room when he heard gunshots coming from the floor above him. Heart pounding as he hoped desperately that KF hadn't been hit, he quickly made his way to the second floor.

He was met by a sight that made his blood run cold. Joker was there, holding a crowbar and wearing his usual demented grin. Kid Flash wasn't dead, but a bullet had grazed his arm, leaving a long shallow scrape, and a gun was being held to his head by one of the Joker's goons. That, at least, was good news; the fact that he wasn't dead. But…why was Joker _here? _He was supposed to be on the other side of Gotham, being taken down by Batman! If only he had his comm unit with him…unfortunately, that had been taken along with his utility belt.

Joker laughed, the hyena like sound making Robin's eyes narrow. "Let him go, Joker," he growled, sounding scarily similar to Batman. Joker just laughed again, enjoying this far too much. "Why so serious, Boy Blunder?" Joker asked with growing glee.

"Let. Him. Go," Robin repeated, hands tightening into fists. The Joker wagged a finger reproachfully at the boy. "If you do that, I'm afraid I'll have to shoot Flash Boy here," he commented with that same grin.

"Kid Flash!" the ginger shouted.

Robin's eyes narrowed, but he forced himself to appear relaxed, though he was anything but. Though he didn't often admit it, Joker really did scare him at times. It came from being beaten almost to death a few times, most following encounters with Joker gas.

"What do you want?" Robin said in that same growling voice. Normally he would cackle and slaughter the English language while making fun of the villains. But normally, his best friend didn't have a gun to his head, about to die at a command from the _Joker. _"I want my birdie back," Joker grinned, giving that same laugh. Robin forced himself not to shiver, hands going instinctually towards his belt before realizing there were no weapons for him to grab. "You see, ever since you went off and joined the Junior Justice League, I've been bored. Bats isn't much fun," he went on. "But you…you always have time to play with your Uncle J. You sing much easier than the Bat."

Robin _really _wished he could contact Batman right now. "Let Kid Flash go, Joker," he repeated. Joker seemed to think for a moment, tapping his hand lightly with the crowbar as he thought. Robin knew what was coming next; he would have to sacrifice himself in order to save his friend. One glance at Kid Flash's face hardened Robin's resolve; he would do it in a heartbeat. "Kill me, not him," he said quickly.

Joker laughed, stepping forward. "I won't kill you yet. You're too much fun to get rid of, Boy Blunder."

"No, Rob, don't do it!" Kid Flash shouted, beginning to vibrate. He stopped as the gun was pressed harder into his head.

"You heard him, KF. He won't kill me. But he'll kill you," Robin said firmly, braced for whatever horrors would come next. The Joker cackled, the maniacal sound sending shivers down Robin's spine. Before he could really react, the crowbar was slammed into his side painfully. Robin let out a small gasp, dropping like a stone as the air left his body.

Though he was sure a few ribs were cracked, if not broken, he forced himself not to make a sound. He gritted his teeth instead, trying to tune out Kid Flash's shouts. He couldn't deal with that right now. Joker continued to laugh as he swung the crowbar again. "Always so serious," he commented, pleasure evident in his voice. Kid Flash couldn't help but shiver at that. "Shame. You have such a beautiful voice..."

The crowbar was slammed into Robin's body between every other word. Robin was left gasping on the floor, tears welling up in eyes behind his mask. He didn't allow one to drip out, instead glaring at Joker from behind the white lenses. But as the beating continued, his body felt like it was on fire. Robin couldn't hold back a soft cry of pain as the crowbar slammed into his ribs again. The Joker's grin widened if possible. "There we go!" he announced cheerfully. "Now, let's see if you'll sing again."

Robin couldn't hold back a scream as the crowbar slammed into his stomach. He was sure it had ruptured _something _and the sharp cry of agony was ripped from him unwittingly. "You just have to lighten up!" Joker commented, throwing a small object down at Robin as he continued to laugh. Robin, gasping from pain, was unable to stop himself from breathing in the gas that seeped out. Immediately, he started laughing, unable to stop himself.

That only caused his stomach and ribs to flare with an almost unbearable pain, and a scream punctuated his forced laughter. "Stop it! You'll kill him!" Kid Flash shouted, desperation shining in his green eyes as he stared at his best friend, horrified.

"I won't kill him! He hasn't cried yet!" Joker argued, shifting his grip on the crowbar before bringing it down to slam into Robin's broken body yet again. As fire shot through his body, burning so badly Robin wanted nothing but to pass out, a small tear trickled out from underneath his mask, much to the Joker's delight.

"There we go!" he repeated, excitement clear.

"Get away from him!" Kid Flash yelled, struggling against the thug holding him, no longer caring about the gun pressed into his head. Even though the pain was unbearable, Robin managed to get out a few choked words. "KF…stop. He'll…kill you," he gasped between his laughs, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

Kid Flash's eyes widened further in horror, face going pale. _He's internally bleeding! _he thought desperately, fear coursing through his veins like icy water. "You'll kill him!" Kid Flash repeated as Joker raised the crowbar.

"He won't die yet. Besides," the Joker's grin widened, "I'm just getting started."

Batman chose that moment to burst in through the window, a batarang flying through the air to knock the crowbar out of Joker's hand. Joker merely laughed, delighted. "Batsy! You've decided to join the party!"

Robin's pained laughs filled the air, and Batman's eyes narrowed, the temperature in the room seeming to drop a few degrees as Joker was treated with the full-force DaddyBats glare. Of course, the thugs had to start attacking. It took Batman only a few seconds for each one, and Kid Flash was soon freed as well, kneeling anxiously beside Robin.

"C'mon, Rob. Stay with us. Batman's here, you're going to be okay," Kid Flash said worriedly as he stared at Robin. Robin didn't respond, laughter growing in intensity as his face scrunched together in pain. "Leave. My. Son. Alone," Batman growled, throwing another batarang. The Joker laughed as he was pinned to the wall.

Batman left him like that. If he wasn't posing any immediate danger, then he could focus on Robin, who seemed to be growing steadily worse. Quickly checking for any signs of a broken neck or back and finding none, Batman gently gathered Robin into his arms. Pained screams cut through the laughter for a brief moment, and Batman quickly injected the antidote into Robin's arm. Luckily, it started to take effect quickly.

Robin's laughs gave way to giggles, which soon became pained gasps. He buried his face in Batman's chest, whimpering slightly as he was shifted. Batman's eyes narrowed, and he quickly radioed in a warning to Alfred, then rushed to the Batmobile. Surprisingly, Kid Flash was able to ride in it too, which was a first. If it weren't for his severely injured best friend, he would've been ecstatic.

They reached the Batcave quickly, but it didn't feel quick enough to anyone in the vehicle. Robin, in agonizing pain, wanted nothing more than for it to stop, each second drawn out into throbbing moment. Kid Flash was a speedster; every second was like a minute anyway. With Robin like this, it made time pass even slower. Batman may not have been a speedster, but time seemed to pass just as slow. Each second that ticked away was vital, another second closer to Robin's…no, Batman wasn't going to think of that.

They soon pulled into the Batcave, where Robin was immediately brought into the medical wing. Kid Flash was left outside, pacing anxiously as his feet began to burn a hole into the Batcave floor.

* * *

Finally, Batman came out, looking exhausted. "He'll make it," he announced, much to the relief of Kid Flash. The speedster exhaled, letting go of the breath he didn't realize he had been holding. "Can…can I go see him?" he asked. Batman hesitated, then nodded. Kid Flash didn't waste any time before rushing into the room. Robin was lying on the medical bed, shirt off and bandages wrapped tightly around his broken ribs. An oxygen mask had been placed over his face, and an IV was in his arm. His skin was pale, but he was alive.

* * *

Robin woke up an hour or so later, head slightly fuzzy. He opened his eyes, slightly surprised to find himself in the Batcave medical wing, his mask off. Bruce was beside his bed, sleeping lightly in a chair. Wally was merely slumped in a corner, soft snores escaping his mouth. Dick struggled to sit up, memories rushing back to him. He let out a small hiss of pain at the movement; pain killers or not, that _hurt. _

The small noise immediately woke Bruce, who pushed him gently back down. "Bruce…what happened?" Dick asked.

"Joker. I administered the antidote in time, but you had multiple broken ribs already, some internal bleeding, and some external bleeding. We had to do surgery," Bruce summarized quickly. Dick then noticed how exhausted the man looked. "How are you feeling?" Bruce asked.

"Asterous," Dick responded with a weak grin. He was aware his throat was sore from laughing so much, and he swallowed uncomfortably. Bruce handed him a glass of water, and Dick gave him a grateful look as he swallowed the drink greedily.

The sounds of voices woke up Wally, and the speedster was at Dick's side in a heartbeat, red hair even messier than usual from just waking up. "Dick! You're awake!" Wally said cheerfully, relief clear in his voice. Dick noticed how exhausted his friend looked as well, shadows under his green eyes, his cowl had been pulled down. "Nope," Dick said with a small grin as he set the water down. "I'm dead. I came back to haunt you."

"Not funny, dude," Wally said. "We almost lost you…"

"I'm still here," Dick assured him. He winced as he shifted positions, the movement making his ribs flare with pain. Bruce noticed this, and his eyes narrowed slightly. "Rest," he ordered.

"But-" Dick tried. A look from Bruce stopped him from protesting, and he allowed himself to give in to the painkillers. "Wally?" Dick asked as his eyes began to drift shut.

"Yeah?"

"Don't draw on my face while I'm asleep."

The speedster grinned. "No promises."

* * *

**A/N **Whew...that ended up being longer than expected. Anywho...

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	9. Sick

**A/N **I can't believe I have over 70 reviews for this thing! I mean, I've never even broken 50 before. :D Thank you all so much; who thinks we can reach 100? ;) So I introduced a few members of the League in this...well, two. Oh well. You also get to see little Robin in this one...he's adorable. *shrugs*

**Disclaimer** If only I owned Young Justice...unfortunately, that's still just a dream. Darn.

~Aiva

* * *

Robin let out a soft moan, eyes tired and shadowed behind his domino mask. He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself tightly. _My skin feels so warm…why do I feel so cold, then? _he wondered silently, letting out another small moan as a wave of nausea crashed over him. Robin tried to ignore the sudden urge to curl up into a ball and sob. He just felt so sick, and he couldn't find Batman anywhere.

Flash then showed up. Immediately, Robin latched on to the red clad vigilante, shivering lightly as he wrapped his small arms around Flash's neck. "Hey, kid," Flash greeted cheerfully. He frowned at Robin's silent response. "You okay?" he asked, worried. If something was wrong with Robin…well, Bats would probably find some way to blame him. Flash tried not to shudder; that wasn't something he wanted to go through again.

"Robin?" Flash asked, beginning to worry.

"I…don't feel good," Robin whispered, light sobs making his voice break near the end. Flash pressed a light hand against Robin's forehead; the kid was _hot_. Flash adjusted his grip as a rough cough shook the small boy's frame. Robin moaned again, pressing himself tighter against the older vigilante. "I don't feel good," he repeated in a small voice. "Where…where's Batman?" His bottom lip was trembling as he asked that question, and Flash felt an odd mixture of concern and panic. Yeah, Bats was going to kill the speedster somehow.

"I'm not sure," Flash admitted. A light sob shook the small acrobat's frame, and Flash's eyes widened. "We'll find him! Don't worry," he added quickly, rubbing Robin's back soothingly as he continued to cough. Robin nodded, burying his face in Flash's shoulder. All of the sudden, Robin pulled away, eyes shooting wide open behind his mask. "I _really _don't feel good," he mumbled urgently, trying to get away.

"I know, kid, I know. We'll find Bats," Flash assured him, not really recognizing what Robin meant. He did as soon as Robin started gagging. "Aw, crud," Flash groaned, as his red costume was covered in vomit. Flash fought the urge to be sick himself, continuing to rub Robin's back soothingly. "It's okay, Robin," Flash assured the trembling child.

"Flash," Robin sobbed out, face pale and cheeks flushed. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, whimpering as he curled up into a ball in Flash's arms. Flash looked around urgently; Batman _had _to be around here _somewhere. _

"Dinah!" Flash called out quickly, seeing the familiar blonde hair. Black Canary quickly hurried over, seeing Robin. "Flash, what did you do?" she asked, taking Robin from him carefully. "C-canary?" Robin whimpered, burying his face into the woman's shoulder. Black Canary gave Flash a glare that would rival Batman's, and the speedster shrunk back.

"I didn't do anything!" he protested. "The kid complained about feeling sick, and I was going to try to find Bats, but lil' Bats here threw up!"

Dinah's eyes narrowed, but she focused her attention mainly on the shivering child in her arms. "Shh, Robin," she soothed. "Tell me what feels bad."

Robin blinked, sniffling slightly. "M-my throat hurts," he whispered. "A-and I feel sick, and I k-keep coughing, and I f-feel really c-cold," he continued, squeezing his eyes shut.

Dinah rubbed his back soothingly. "It'll be alright," she assured him. "Do you know where Batman is?"

Robin shook his head, and Dinah could easily sense the impending tears. She pulled him into a tight hug. "Shh, Robin," she repeated gently. "We'll find him, okay?" Robin nodded, letting out another moan as he did. Dinah turned her gaze towards Flash. "Flash. Go see if you can find Batman. Tell him Robin's sick," she instructed. Flash nodded, speeding off quickly.

"I don't feel good," Robin whispered yet again, unable to hold back a moan as another wave of nausea swept over him. Dinah looked around quickly, not eager to meet the same fate as Flash. She spotted a convenient trash can, and walked over to it. She held Robin carefully as he threw up again, pushing his dark hair back from his face in a motherly way. "It's okay," she soothed softly. "It's okay, Robin."

Robin just moaned, burying his fevered face into Dinah's shoulder again.

* * *

"Bats!" Flash called out urgently, skidding to stop in front of the Dark Knight. Batman looked up, irritation flashing briefly across his face. "What?" he growled.

"It's Robin," Flash said quickly. "He's sick."

Batman, noticing the vomit staining the red fabric of Flash's costume, needed no other reason, rushing out of the room at a speed that would make Flash jealous (which it did).

* * *

It didn't take him long to find his sidekick, his _son, _kneeling in front of a trash can, Black Canary soothing him as he threw up. Batman took Robin in his arms, noting how his small frame was shaking. Robin looked at him, sniffling as he held back tears. His face was pale, but his cheeks were flushed, and Batman winced when he noticed how hot the boy's skin was. "B-Batman," he whimpered, burying his face in his "father's" chest.

"Shh, Robin," Batman soothed, his gentle side coming out even as he glared at the other two Leaguers, obviously wanting them to go away. They got the message, both of them leaving the Dynamic Duo alone. Batman allowed his gentle paternal side to come out fully then, cradling Robin carefully in his arms. "What's wrong?"

"I don't feel good, an…and my throat hurts, and I keep coughing, and I feel really cold," Robin mumbled quickly, his voice muffled by the dark fabric of Batman's costume. Batman immediately started walking towards the medical bay, all the while whispering words of comfort into his son's dark hair.

Robin whimpered as he threw up again, Batman barely getting him to a trash can in time. "Tati!" Robin cried, his small arms tightening around Batman's neck. Batman couldn't help but be surprised; Robin hadn't ever called him Daddy before. He wanted so badly to smile, but looking at his son, the Dark Knight knew that would have to wait for another time.

He laid Robin on a nearby bed, brushing the child's dark hair away from his hot face. He quickly pulled out fever reducer pills, which Robin swallowed without much complaint. Batman ran his fingers through Robin's hair, trying to offer some comfort as the boy moaned and curled up into a shivering ball. Batman pulled the covers over his small form with his other hand, all the while murmuring soft words of comfort and reassurance.

"Tati…" Robin mumbled again.

"I'm here," Batman soothed. "I'm here, Dickie."

"Don't leave," he pleaded, small fingers grasping for Batman's. The older vigilante took his hand, squeezing it gently. "I won't, son. I promise," he assured. Robin's breathing eased, and he drifted off into a fitful sleep, hand still wrapped around his father's.

* * *

**A/N **Yeah, I've been sick lately, so this kinda came out. Anywho...

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	10. The Tick

**A/N **Don't ask...just...don't ask.

**Disclaimer** I don't own Young Justice, or The Tick.

~Aiva

* * *

"We need a war cry," Robin announced suddenly. Not many things surprised Batman, but that statement nearly did. He turned away from the Batcomputer, glancing at his protégé questioningly. "And where did this sudden need for a war cry come from?" he asked, one white lens widening slightly as he raised his eyebrow. Robin shrugged, now dangling from a rafter. Batman sighed, turning around. Sometimes, he didn't quite understand that boy.

"You know, something we can yell out before leaping into battle," Robin continued, hanging upside down.

"I know what a war cry is," Batman replied, resuming his work.

"Then why don't we have one?" Robin immediately asked. "I mean, we have a Batcomputer, a Batmobile, a Batsignal…but we don't have a Batcry."

"A…Batcry," Batman repeated, turning away from the computer once again. Robin nodded eagerly, flipping down and landing easily on the floor. "Yeah. Not something like "Not the face, not the face"-"

Batman froze. Was…was he really making a reference to _that?_ Where had he even seen that?

"No, that's for the villains…" Robin seemed to think for a moment, then brightened, pulling a spoon out of his utility belt. "Our war cry can be spoon!" he announced cheerfully, a wide grin forming on his face.

"You want us to shout _spoon _before fighting villains."

"Yeah! It'll be out war cry!" Robin confirmed, playing with the spoon.

"Robin…where did you watch The Tick?" Batman asked, eyes narrowing as he stared as his excited protégé.

"…Wally's house," he admitted. The grin soon returned to his face. "Uncle Barry said it was a great show, and when he learned I had never watched it before, he made us watch almost all of the episodes. And then he showed us clips on YouTube."

"Robin, don't ever listen to Barry Allen," Batman said. Robin frowned, then resumed climbing on the dinosaur. Suddenly, he froze, glancing over at Batman. "How did _you _know it was a reference to The Tick?" he asked suspiciously.

Batman resisted the urge to slam his head into the Batcomputer.

* * *

"Hold your position," Batman ordered through the comm link. Robin groaned, sitting down on the edge of the building with a huff. Batman was too overprotective at times; it was just a group of drug dealers. Robin knew things would go better if he was there…just because he had a _cold _didn't mean he couldn't fight. Batman quickly attacked, taking down the thugs with a few batarangs.

Robin fidgeted with his belt, beginning to grow bored as he watched the battle. The feeling of boredom soon disappeared as he noticed the gun aimed at Batman, who was already busy fighting two thugs. Hold your position…yeah, right. Robin swung off of his grappling hook, feet knocking the gun out of the guy's hands. He let out a cackle, a mischievous grin forming on his face. "SPOON!" he shouted as he leapt towards the guy.

Batman groaned as he knocked a thug out. He was going to have to have a talk with Barry Allen.

* * *

"Batsignal's on," Robin informed, glancing up at the cloudy sky. Batman's eyes narrowed. "Get in the Batmobile," he said, already moving towards the high-tech vehicle. Robin nodded, vaulting in. At least he had gotten over screaming "To the Batmobile!" whenever he got in…that stage had lasted for months.

The Batmobile was soon racing down the streets. "Batman?" Robin piped up. Batman's eyes narrowed, and he spared a brief glance over at his protégé. "What?" he asked curtly, an edge of irritation showing in his voice. That didn't faze Robin, who merely leaned in closer.

"Honk if you love justice!" he shouted.

If Batman wasn't Batman, he would've facepalmed. "Robin, the Batmobile doesn't have a horn."

"…Darn it."

* * *

They had gotten swarmed by reporters, which was rather unusual. Batman had already disappeared, shooting a Batglare at a few of the reporters. He was going to give it a few seconds, then he was going to drag Robin away from there as well. For the moment though, the teenager seemed to be enjoying it.

"What's it like working with Batman?"

"If he's a bat, why are you a bird?"

"What's your opinion on-"

"How do you feel-"

"Can you destroy the earth?"

The questions ceased as people tried to figure out who had asked such a random question. Robin merely grinned, Batman groaning in the background as he sensed what was coming. A horrified look suddenly formed on Robin's face, and he allowed a gasp to slip out. "Egad, I hope not!" he responded, eyes wide. "That's where I keep all my stuff!"

The reporters laughed and the questions resumed, but Batman grabbed Robin by his cape, dragging his protégé away. Robin grinned at the reporters, waving goodbye. "Robin?"

"Yeah?"

"You're no longer allowed to watch the Tick."

"But-"

A glare silenced him, a sullen look forming on Robin's face. "Darn it," he mumbled.

* * *

"Flash, I need to talk to you."

"Sure thing, Bats," Flash responded, speeding over. "What's up?"

"Did you let my son watch The Tick while he was at your house?"

Flash froze, white lenses of his cowl comically wide. He could hear the barely suppressed frustration in the Dark Knight's voice, and he didn't exactly want to be on the receiving end of his anger.

"Maybe?" he answered hestitantly. Batman's eyes narrowed, and he took a step forward.

"He is never allowed to watch that show again," he said firmly, a growl edging his voice. Flash nodded, then ran away, disappearing in a red blur. Batman allowed a satisfied smirk to flicker across his face before it was replaced by his normal scowl, turning back to the Watchtower computers. Mission accomplished.

* * *

**A/N **Seriously, anyone remember that show? I have no idea why this popped into my mind, it just did...why can I see Barry Allen watching The Tick though? Hmmm...I dunno. XD Sorry this is so random; hopefully, it wasn't horrible though, and I made at least someone laugh.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	11. Drivers Ed

**A/N **Don't let Wally drive...I'll just leave it at that.

**Disclaimer** These things irritate me. Why would I be spending my time with fanfiction if I owned Young Justice?

~Aiva

* * *

"WALLY, WATCH OUT FOR THAT CAT!" Roy shouted, gripping the edge of his seat tightly. He winced as Wally swerved, narrowly avoiding the startled animal. "Sorry! Not my fault it was in the road!" Wally shouted.

"It wasn't!" Dick shouted back. "_You _were on the _sidewalk!" _

"Sorry!" Wally repeated, glancing back at him.

"EYES ON THE ROAD!" Dick and Roy shrieked simultaneously. Wally turned his attention back to the road, wincing as he almost hit a stop sign.

"That's it!" Roy shouted, face growing pale as Wally managed to go up on two wheels. "If we survive this, I am _never _letting you drive again!"

"Why'd you let him do it in the first place?" Dick demanded.

"You didn't have to come along, Bird Boy!" Roy retorted.

"Yellow hat!"

"Boy Blunder!"

"SIDEKICK!"

Wally stomped on the brakes suddenly, causing the argument to cease. "I figured out where the brakes are!" he announced happily.

"You didn't know before?" Dick asked, blue eyes wide as he stared at his ginger friend. "That's it; this is the last time I get in a car with gingers!"

"I can drive!" Roy protested.

Dick snorted. "You've been pulled over for speeding 7 times, gotten 9 tickets, and you've been in 2 crashes."

No one asked how he knew this, and Wally suddenly floored the accelerator. Roy turned green as Dick let out a whoop. Both quickly became scared as Wally began to head for a bridge. "Wally, no! You get on that bridge and we die!" Roy shouted.

Dick was beginning to grow pale. "This is a disaster," he announced. "Heavy on the _dis._"

"No duh, bird-brain!" Roy retorted, mortal terror making him snap.

"Shut up, _Speedy,_" Dick snapped.

"Both of you be quiet! I need to concentrate!" Wally shouted, turning back to face them.

"EYES ON THE ROAD!"

"Sorry!" Wally yelped, swerving to avoid a yellow car.

"Punch bug!" Dick shouted, punching Roy's arm hard.

"Seriously, Dick?" Roy snapped, glancing back at the dark-haired teen. Dick shrugged. "Not my fault I saw it before you did!" he responded smugly.

Roy glared at him, but his attention was directed back towards their imminent death as the car scraped along the edge of the bridge. Everyone screamed. "I'd rather be stuck fighting the Joker, Scarecrow, _and _Two-Face right now!" Dick shouted, as white as a sheet as he tried not to look at how high up they were. After many more screams and close calls, they made it off of the bridge.

Roy's face was green, and he was clutching his seat tightly as if that would save him. Dick was pale, blue eyes wide and a little panicked. Wally was grinning, having the time of his life. "Whoo!" Wally shouted cheerfully. "That was _awesome!"_

Dick gave him a Batglare, and Wally immediately paled. "You're explaining to Ollie why his car is ruined," Roy announced, giving Wally another glare. Wally swallowed, and pulled over. Instead of hitting the brakes, though, he pushed the gas pedal down harder. All three screamed as the car crashed into the building in front of them.

* * *

Roy and Dick shot Wally a simultaneous death glare. The two were propped up in a hospital bed. Dick had gotten a concussion, and Roy had broken ribs. Wally shrunk back; he had only gotten some minor bruising, and that had already healed up thanks to his speedster healing. "Sorry?" Wally tried. The two injured teens simply continued to glare at him.

After a minute or two, they all suddenly burst out laughing. "That…was…awesome," Roy said, gasping out the words as he winced, broken ribs flaring painfully.

"Totally asterous," Dick agreed, ignoring his throbbing headache as he continued to laugh.

"Wanna do it again?" Wally asked in excitement.

"NO!" Roy and Dick responded quickly, eyes widening. Then they started laughing harder.

Bruce, Ollie, and Barry then walked through the door. Ollie scowled at Roy. "What happened to my car?" he asked. Roy swallowed. "Wally did it!" he shouted quickly.

"Richard," Bruce said, a warning edge to his voice.

"Wally's fault," Dick said quickly. Both Ollie and Bruce glared at the speedster, and Wally's eyes widened. "Sorry?" he squeaked, growing pale as he was subjected to Ollie's glare, and worse, the _Daddy-Bat's _glare. He backed up, looking desperately at the door.

Bruce turned his glare to Barry, who swallowed. "Hey, don't blame me. Blame Wally," he said quickly.

"UNCLE BARRY!" Wally cried indignantly.

Dick let out a cackle as the speedster's raced out of the room, trying very hard not to use their super speed. Yeah, getting in the car was worth it. "Don't do this again," Bruce said to Dick. Translation: _I was worried; try to be safer. _Dick grinned. "I won't," he assured him.

Bruce nodded and left, followed by Ollie. Dick glanced over at Roy, a mischievous glint in his blue eyes. "Same time Saturday?" he asked.

Roy nodded, a grin beginning to form. "You bet."

A few moments of silence passed before Dick asked, "Can I drive this time?"

Roy stared at him. "In your dreams, bird boy."

* * *

**A/N **...Can anyone else see that happening? I don't know, I just enjoy the idea that Wally is a horrible driver and Roy tries to teach him. ^^ On another note, thank you all so much for all the reviews! I'm hoping to make it to 100 with this chapter; it'll be my first time doing that! :D

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	12. Hot Pink

**A/N** So, remember a few chapters back, where I mentioned when they had played truth or dare, and they dyed their mentors' uniforms hot pink? I got bored, so now you get to read that. ^^ Enjoy!

**Disclaimer** If I owned Young Justice, they would be releasing new episodes right now.

~Aiva

* * *

"So…truth or dare?" Dick asked mischievously.

"Dare," Wally and Roy responded simultaneously. While terrified of what they would be asked to do, they were even more terrified of what he would ask them to reveal…some things, you just really didn't want a ninja to find out. An almost sinister grin appeared on Dick's face. "You have to dye Flash and Green Arrow's uniforms hot pink," he dared.

Wally eyes widened as Roy started snickering. "You're doing it with us," Wally announced.

"…Can_ you_ see Batman in hot pink?" Dick asked, raising an eyebrow. Of course, that made all three boys collapse to the floor with laughter. "Fine, I'll do it," he gasped out, clutching his stomach as he continued to laugh.

* * *

"I can't go out in that!" Ollie yelped. Roy was trying to hide his laughter, but it wasn't working, a wide smirk clear on his face. "You have to; there are hostages," Roy reminded, snickering.

"But…but…it's _pink!" _he protested, gesturing to his costume.

"Listen, do you want to be responsible for the deaths of innocent civilians?"

"…Fine," Ollie grumbled.

About half an hour later, they were handing the thugs over to the police. "Uh, Green Arrow? What happened to…" a police began.

"Don't ask," Ollie responded, blushing face almost the same shade as his costume. The press began snapping pictures, causing Ollie's face to turn a more vibrant shade of pink. He whirled around as he heard clicking from right next to him, only to see Roy snapping a picture too. "Hey!" Ollie yelped.

Roy was too busy laughing to respond.

* * *

"Wally…why is my suit _pink?" _Barry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Uh…I have no idea," Wally answered quickly. He didn't exactly sound convincing though, because he was trying – and failing – to stifle his laughter.

"Well, I can't go out like this!"

"C'mon, Uncle Barry. Captain Cold is robbing-"

"But it's pink!" Barry interrupted loudly.

"It's not that far off from red," Wally protested, clutching his stomach as he laughed. Barry crossed his arms stubbornly. "Uncle Barry, we have to go," the redhead reminded.

"But-"

"I'll tell Aunt Iris you wouldn't go," Wally threatened.

"…Fine."

It was only a few minutes before the villain had been handed over to the police. Flash was currently trapped in a swarm of reporters.

"Flash! What's with the costume change?"

"Are you tired of being the Scarlet Speedster?"

"Is this change permanent?"

"What – no!" Flash said, looking at the reporters helplessly. Even with super speed, he wasn't able to make out half of the questions, much less answer them. Of course, then they began taking pictures. The speedster tried to run, but he was trapped in by the people surrounding him. He turned to see Kid Flash snapping pictures right along with the reporters, practically on the floor laughing.

Flash crossed his arms, face growing red as he tried to avoid as many of the cameras as possible.

* * *

Bruce was glaring at Dick, who was laughing from the rafters. "C'mon, Bruce," he cajoled, "It's not that bad."

"It's pink," the man responded coldly, crossing his arms. "I don't do pink."

"The Batsignal is on," Dick argued. "We have to go."

Bruce growled; he couldn't exactly let Dick go out by himself in Gotham. But…he couldn't go out either. Then again, if he didn't, Gotham would most likely suffer some serious damage. Silently, he weighed the risks in his mind, considering his options. He let out a heavy sigh. "…Get in the car," he finally grumbled.

They arrived at the warehouses in the pier. It was a group of drug dealers who were threatening to blow up the city…sadly, that was usual. Robin went in, deactivating the explosives with ease. Batman was left to take the thugs down. He didn't even get the chance to fight, glaring as the villains started laughing.

Robin dropped down in beside him, laughing almost as hard as the thugs. He snapped a picture of Batman quickly before slipping the camera back into his utility belt. "Feeling the aster," he cackled, grinning widely.

"Robin?"

"Yeah?"

"You're grounded."

Robin kept laughing. It was worth it to see Batman in hot pink.

* * *

**A/N **Kinda short, and not my best work, but oh well. *shrug* I posted it anyway. Hope it wasn't too horrible...I promise the next update will be better.

Oh, and for the people who did give suggestions, I am working on them and keeping them in mind, I just haven't been hit with inspiration for them yet. ;) They will be posted at some point though.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	13. DaddyBats

**A/N **ARL15 asked for another DaddyBats chapter...hopefully, this satisfied all DaddyBats fluff needs. It's more of a hurt/comfort, but...those are the fluffiest moments. ;) Hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer **...One word. Hiatus. I wouldn't be putting fans through that.

~Aiva

* * *

The white lenses of his domino mask were narrowed into thin slits, his face scrunched up in pain as he fought the urge to cry out. He gritted his teeth, sucking in a sharp breath as the crowbar slammed into his side yet again. Robin refused to make a sound, however, unwilling to give the clown any sort of satisfaction. "Come on, Bird Boy," Joker cajoled, "Play with your Uncle J." Shifting his grip on the crowbar, he slammed it into the teenage boy again.

Robin was unable to help the moan that slipped out as it jarred his already broken ribs. He immediately bit the inside of his cheek, silently scolding himself for allowing any sound to be made. He wouldn't show weakness in front of him…he _wouldn't. _Joker laughed, his creepy cackle echoing slightly in the empty factory. "There we go," he said cheerfully, voice somehow dark and light at the same time. Robin fought the urge to shiver; creep.

The Boy Wonder silently catalogued his injuries: at least two broken ribs, probably a few more that were fractured, an arm that was dislocated at the very least, a sprained ankle, a decent concussion, and multiple bruises. There were also a few deep cuts lining his arms as well. To sum it all up, he had had worse, but it wouldn't take too many more beatings before he…well, Robin didn't really want to think about that.

He squeezed his eyes shut as the crowbar slammed into him, the blood draining out of his face as it slammed into his broken ribs again. A sickening _crack _cut through the air as the crowbar then slammed into his knee. Robin's masked eyes shot wide open as hot fire seemed to engulf his leg. All thoughts of being strong fled his mind as a scream ripped out of his throat, tears forming in his eyes. He forced himself not to look, wincing as he felt the bone scrape unnaturally against itself. It hurt. It really, really hurt, and that was the only coherent thought that filled Robin's mind.

The teenager fought off the wave of dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him. _Stay whelmed, _he reminded himself. _Batman will be here any minute. _That didn't stop him from screaming again as the crowbar slammed into his stomach. It had to have ruptured _something_; his entire body seemed to be burning now, filled with a horrible, merciless pain. "You sing so much easier than the Bat," Joker noted, grin widening as he stared at the teenage boy in front of him. "He's always…so…serious." With each word, he slammed the crowbar into Robin again and again.

Robin gasped for breath, feeling sticky liquid already clogging his throat. He was dimly aware of the fact he was coughing, the action repeatedly causing his ribs to flare with an even greater pain. _I'm internally bleeding…_he thought fuzzily, noting how hard it was to stay awake. He knew Bruce would kill him if he fell asleep though, so he forced his eyes to stay open, though everything in him was pleading to sink into the darkness, to escape the pain.

A growl sounded from behind Robin then. The boy managed a small smile, the gesture odd and out of place on his pale features. "Knew you'd come," Robin mumbled, words slurring together. He let out another cough, letting out a small sound of pain as his broken ribs were jostled by the motion. Batman wasted no time before lunging at the Joker, fury painting his vision red. In a rage, Joker was down in a matter of minutes. Batman cuffed him quickly, then turned to his protégé.

The sight of Robin did nothing to help the anger boiling inside of the Dark Knight. He knelt in front of the boy, who looked far too young and small right then. Blood stained his red uniform, making darker blotches on the Kevlar-lined fabric. His left arm was clearly broken, sticking out at an odd angle, and it was clear there were broken ribs as well. His knee was worse, twisted and mutilated, causing his leg to be in the wrong spot as well. A large bump had formed underneath his dark hair, and bruises and cuts marred his pale skin. Worst of all, though, was the thin stream of blood trickling from his mouth.

_He's internally bleeding, _Batman thought. Though he didn't show out on the outside other than tensing, he was fighting the urge to panic. Cradling the boy in his arms, he reached up with his free hand to activate his comm link. "J'onn, I need zeta beams to the Watchtower immediately," he growled, voice low and full of hidden worry. Luckily, the Martian seemed to pick up on his urgency, and didn't waste time.

Batman was soon in the Watchtower, Robin now cradled carefully in both arms. He ignored the blood now smearing his own costume, focused entirely on the boy dying right there. "What happened?" J'onn asked, moving closer to the duo.

"Joker," Batman responded tensely. "We need to get him into surgery. Now."

* * *

Batman paced outside of the room, glaring at the door keeping him from his son fiercely, as if he could blow it up with sheer willpower. Judging by the mood the Dark Knight was in, it was actually possible he might. He froze as he heard the unmistakable sound of a heart-monitor flat-lining, the irritating one-pitched beep heavy in the air. Batman's eyes were wide underneath the cowl, and he began banging on the door, desperate to get in. "Robin!"

He wasn't about to lose Dick, not now, not ever. _Come back, Dick, _Batman couldn't lose his son, he couldn't lose his son…no matter how many times he repeated that, it didn't make the boy's heart start again. _Come on, Dickie-bird. We need you here. _He didn't care that he was acting weak right now; he was too focused on the son he might have just lost. He strained his hearing, listening as the paddles were placed on Dick's chest and turned on. It happened once, twice, three times…and still nothing.

Batman was ready to charge right into that door by then, but the heart monitor finally started beeping again. He let out a breath that he hadn't realized he had been holding, feeling as if a heavy weight had been literally lifted off of his shoulders. Dick was still alive; his son was still here. Batman leaned against the door heavily, as if he could phase through the thick material. It didn't work, so he resumed pacing again. _He'll be okay, _Batman repeated to himself firmly. _He'll be okay…_

* * *

They had said Dick was most likely in a coma; though the surgeries had been successful, he hadn't woken up yet, and it had been a week since the procedures that had saved his life. Bruce hadn't left his side once since then, and shadows were clear under the man's dull eyes as he stared at his son. He would wake up; he was called the Boy Wonder for a reason, after all. He was a strong kid…he would be fine. He had to be.

"Bruce, you need to get some rest."

"Leave, Clark," Bruce growled in response, shrugging the man's hand off of his shoulder.

"I know you want to be with Dick, but-"

"I'm not leaving him!"

Clark raised hands in surrender. "I'm not asking you to! Just get some rest; it's what Dick would want."

"Dick will want me to be here when he wakes up," Bruce responded firmly, voice taking on a dangerous edge.

"Bruce-"

"Out!"

Clark let out a heavy sigh. "I hate to do this," he muttered, shoving the needle into the Dark Knight's arm. Bruce managed to shoot a glare at Clark before he passed out, succumbing to the drug and sheer exhaustion. It was for his own good; Bruce couldn't keep pushing himself like this. He had to sleep at some point, Bat or not; same with eating. The sedative should keep him knocked out for at least 24 hours.

* * *

Dick woke up twelve hours later. He let out a small groan, tossing and turning, mumbling the occasional phrase in Romani as sweat formed on his face. Bruce was there in a heartbeat, placing a hand on Dick's shoulder. The boy's blue eyes shot wide open at the touch, tears clear in their depths. He glanced around wildly, his gaze finally settling onto Bruce. He didn't hesitate before launching himself into the man's embrace, clutching his shirt tightly as his arms wrapped around his adoptive father. He ignored the cast, the wires, the IV, just wanting to be comforted at the moment.

"Shh, Dick," Bruce soothed, running his fingers through his son's dark hair as he rubbed comforting circles on his back. "It's alright."

Dick sniffled, sobs turning into hiccups, then finally into gentle gasps as some of the pain registered in his mind. He still clung tightly to Bruce though. "I-I was so c-close, Bruce," he whispered, voice breaking. "B-but I still couldn't b-be with th-them."

Bruce said nothing for a moment, knowing that he was talking about his parents. "I know, Dickie," he murmured. "I'm here. I'm here," he repeated. Dick slowly pulled away, sniffling.

"Thanks," he whispered, voice a bit hoarse. A moment passed in silence before he spoke up again. "How long was I out?" he asked.

"Eight days," Bruce responded. Dick tensed momentarily at the answer, relaxing fractionally as he looked down. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I shouldn't have let myself get caught, I shouldn't ha-"

"There's nothing to apologize for," Bruce interrupted, a rare smile on his face that only Dick could ever bring out. A small smile formed on the teenager's face as well, and he didn't hesitate before snuggling back into his adoptive father's embrace once more, wanting that blanket of security and peace he offered.

Bruce hugged him back, all of his relief and care conveyed through that one gesture. He didn't add anything, knowing that some things didn't have to be said.

But Dick said it anyways. "I love you," he whispered, words muffled as he buried his face into the older vigilante's chest. Bruce hesitated for only a millisecond before responding. "I love you too, son," he murmured softly, warm grip tightening on the boy in his arms.

* * *

Clark had rushed to the room when he had learned Robin was awake. He froze in the doorway when he saw the little bird wrapped in Bruce's arms. How…? Wasn't he supposed to be knocked out for another twelve hours? The Kryptonian left the room slowly, leaving the two alone. Apparently, a little thing like being drugged wasn't about to keep Bruce from Dick.

Next time, Clark would remember to never underestimate an overprotective DaddyBats.

* * *

**A/N **So...was it fluffy enough? ^^ I hope so. Oh, and thank you guys so much for all of the reviews! I've never had this many before; it makes me internally shriek everytime I see that number. :D You all get some of Alfred's cookies for being such amazing reviewers. *hands out cookies*

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	14. Nightmares

**A/N **I've been on a DaddyBats fluff craze lately. So...here's more fluff. ^^

**Disclaimer **Nope, don't own. Darn.

~Aiva

* * *

His eyes were wide as he glanced around his dark room. Their blue depths flitted over to the clock on the nightstand; it was 2 in the morning. Dick was tired, but he wasn't going to sleep; he just _couldn't. _It wasn't like that one time where he wanted to be like Batman, so he stayed up all night and then ended up asleep in the rafters. He was honestly terrified of the idea of falling asleep. It was their anniversary in a few days, and Dick just couldn't deal with the nightmares again. He couldn't deal with watching them die every night, over and over again. He was just going to have to stay awake until after the anniversary, when the nightmares slowly became less frequent.

He was eleven years old; surely he could handle not sleeping. So he ignored the exhaustion setting in, keeping his eyes wide open as he glanced at the clock every few minutes. He stifled a yawn as the clock neared four in the morning; he could do this. Just a few more hours, and it would be time to get up anyway. Slowly but surely, the dark sky outside turned into a lighter gray color, signaling that it was finally morning time. Dick stifled another yawn as he slipped out of bed, mustering the energy he had to act as awake as possible; Bruce would definitely notice if he fell asleep in his cereal again.

* * *

When Bruce came home, he was met by a rather interesting sight; Dick was hanging upside down off of the chandelier, feet and legs entwined securely around the graceful curves of glass and metal. That in itself wasn't so odd; at least every other week that boy was climbing on something or the other. The interesting part was the fact that Dick was clearly trying hard not to fall asleep, and failing miserably. He would let out the occasional soft snore, then jerk awake again.

"Dick? What are you doing?" Bruce asked, eyes narrowing questioningly.

Dick jerked awake again, groggy blue eyes shooting open. "Wha'?" he mumbled, then seemed to fully wake up. "Oh…hi, Bruce." He struggled to get down, doing a sloppy flip that ended up with him flat on his back. He got up, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly as Bruce raised an eyebrow.

"…Go to bed, Dick," Bruce finally said, noting the shadows underneath the dull blue eyes.

Dick immediately stiffened, tired body becoming rigid as he shook his head mutely. Knowing that his adoptive father was waiting for further explanation, he took a deep breath then continued. "I-I can't," he admitted, blue eyes fixed firmly on the ground.

"Why not?"

"I just can't!" Dick blurted, exhaustion taking its toll as his emotions went slightly askew.

Bruce wasn't called the World's Greatest Detective for nothing, analytical mind quickly picking up on the reason. Dick continued anyways. "The anniversary…it's in three days, Bruce. I-I can't see it anymore; it's every night now. If I don't go to sleep…I can't have the nightmares. I can't see _them _again." He blinked back the tears that threatened to spill out, determined not to cry in front of Bruce.

Used to comforting the boy by now, Bruce knew what to do. He wrapped his arms around Dick's frame, which was trembling slightly. He didn't assure him that it would be okay, that everything was alright; they both knew that wasn't true. Things would never be completely alright, especially not now. But he could offer Dick as much comfort as he could. "Sorry," Dick whispered, voice muffled. He made no move to move away, soaking in the comfort that came with the man's embrace.

"Dick, you have to fall asleep eventually," Bruce said after a moment. Immediately, the boy stiffened again, shaking his head. "I'll be right here," Bruce assured him. Dick took in a deep breath before nodding slightly.

* * *

_Spotlights focused on the family of acrobats on the trapeze platform, waving and smiling as they greeted the audience._

"_Ladies and gentlemen, the Flying Graysons!" The voice boomed through the tent, and was met by a large cheer from the audience. Dick glanced up at his parents, blue eyes wide as excitement sent tingles through his stomach. _

_His mami rested a hand on his dark hair, running her fingers through it affectionately. Dick beamed up at her, then glanced back over at the audience. The music started, and his family began the routine. They seemed to fly through the air, twisting and turning into complex and seemingly impossible ways. Dick waited eagerly on the platform, listening intently for his cue. He silently counted down in his head. Three…two…_

Snap! _The weakened trapeze line gave way, sending the acrobats on it plummeting to the ground. Dick's eyes widened, already filling with tears as a desperate scream tore out of his throat. He dropped to his knees, stretching out a hand to reach for them. His mami's fingers were so close, he knew he could grab them…but they kept falling, falling, falling._

_Dick was unable to look away as they hit the ground, bodies shattering as they made contact. Dick screamed again, a horrible heart-wrenching sound that would make anyone with a shred of humanity want to cry with him. He didn't waste time before climbing nimbly down, landing on the floor lightly. He raced over, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks. They were still, horribly, terribly still. Dick fell to his knees beside them, baby blue eyes focusing on his parents. Their eyes were open, glazed over and empty._

_"Mami! Tati!" he shrieked, fingers tugging at their uniforms desperately as he tried to get them to wake up. This couldn't be happening; it had to be a dream, a nightmare. Soon he would wake up to the gentle assurances of his mami and the strong arms of his tati. Then he would go and check on the rest of his family, making sure they were alright. And they would be, they had to be. They couldn't just be gone…_

_But they were._

_Dick screamed as hands pulled him away from their bodies. He shrieked for them to let him stay, for his family to wake up, to come back…none of his desperate, heart-broken pleas were answered. His sight was blurry from the salty tears that dripped down his cheeks, but he stared at his family, not letting go of the hope that they would get up, that they would be okay._

_His hopes shattered._

* * *

When Dick woke up, he was aware he was screaming, screaming for them. Tears streamed freely down his cheeks, his blue eyes wide as he glanced around. He was in his room in the manor. They were already gone, they had died years ago…it was over. Dick's screams ceased, harsh sobs breaking out instead. His whole body shook as he wrapped his arms around himself, squeezing his blue eyes shut as he tried to forget the images. They were burned into his mind though, and he let out another sob.

Bruce rushed in under a millisecond later, not wasting a moment before gathering his little bird into his arms. "Shh, Dickie," he soothed.

"I-I saw it a-again," Dick sobbed, burying his face in his adoptive father's chest. "Mami, Tati, Auntie Karla-" His voice broke, and he couldn't continue.

"I know, Dickie. It hurts," Bruce murmured, rubbing comforting circles on the boy's back.

"Th-they fell, Bruce," he sobbed. "They f-fell and I c-couldn't d-do _anything. _They w-were so c-close…I should've b-been able t-to save th-them, I sh-should ha"-

"Dick, there was nothing you could do. It wasn't your fault," Bruce interrupted. "I know– you keep thinking what if, what if…but what happened has happened. There's nothing you can do to change that." Dick nodded, the motion small but there.

"Bruce…I d-don't want t-to go b-back t-to sleep. I-I d-don't want to…to see i-it again," Dick whispered brokenly.

Bruce squeezed him tighter, trying to comfort the boy. "I'll be right here, Dickie. I won't leave," he promised. Dick nodded, though he continued to cry. Slowly, his quiet sobs became gentle snuffling snores as he drifted off to sleep, comforted by the knowledge that he still had one father that wouldn't leave him.

* * *

**A/N** So we get a younger Dickie and more fluff...'cause we all know it's adorable. ;) Hopefully, you enjoyed this one. ^^

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	15. TakeOut

**A/N **So, so sorry about the late update; I normally try not to keep you guys waiting that long. I just haven't had much inspiration lately, which is why this one is a bit short. Oh well.

**Disclaimer **Nope, don't own. ;)

~Aiva

* * *

Dick walked out of his room, slightly confused when the sweet aroma of baking cookies didn't greet him. That's weird; Alfred _always _had a few cookies ready by the time he had finished his homework, and he was done. So where were the cookies? Frowning, Dick walked into the kitchen, then proceeded to search the rest of the manor when he didn't spot the English butler. He finally found Bruce in the study, practically buried under paper work. Dick couldn't help but grin as he saw the look of exasperation on the man's face; Dick knew how much he hated dealing with paperwork.

"Where's Alfred?" Dick inquired, moving closer to the desk. Bruce looked up, meeting his adoptive son's eyes. "Sick," he answered, and Dick froze.

"But…what about dinner? What about _cookies?" _he asked, eyes widening slightly. Life without Alfred's cookies just wasn't the same.

"We can make something ourselves," Bruce said, waving the question off as he looked back down at the paper in his hands. Dick frowned again.

"I thought Alfred banned you from the kitchen," he remembered.

"I'm sure we'll be fine," Bruce responded, obviously determined to ignore the butler's rules.

Dick paused, studying the billionaire for a moment; no one went against Alfred. It just…it wouldn't end well. Finally, the boy shrugged; if Bruce wanted to deal with that, it was his own decision. "In that case, I'm hungry," he informed.

Bruce looked up again. "I'm a bit busy right now," he said, slightly irritated.

"C'mon, Bruce. You and I both know you've just been sitting there and staring at it for the past ten minutes," Dick pointed out as his stomach growled. "Making dinner won't kill you." Honestly, he was a bit apprehensive about letting Bruce cook too; he had managed to set the oven on fire, after all. But…maybe it was just a one-time thing? Dick shrugged it off; he was hungry, and he wanted food.

"Fine," Bruce sighed, standing up. Dick's face lit up, and he practically dragged the man down to the kitchen. "Can we make spaghetti?" he asked, randomly feeling the need for pasta and tomato sauce. Bruce hesitated; it s_eemed _easy enough. Boil a package of noodles, and pour sauce over it once it was done. Finally, he nodded, and began rummaging around. It didn't take him long before he had the noodles out, along with a large pot filled with water. However, he couldn't seem to find the sauce.

"I think Alfred makes it from scratch," Dick offered.

"Great," Bruce said, a subtle edge of sarcasm to the word. "What's in spaghetti sauce?"

"Uh…tomatoes?"

"What else?" Bruce prompted.

"…More tomatoes?"

Bruce sighed; this was going to take a while. "How about we eat it without sauce?" he suggested.

Dick looked horrified. "No! You can't eat spaghetti without spaghetti sauce! It's just…wrong!" He brightened after a moment. "I can just zeta down to the Cave; I think M'gann went and bought some not too long ago," he suggested. "Be right back!" He disappeared, rushing towards the Batcave without waiting for a response.

He didn't waste time before he zeta'd to Mount Justice, rushing into the kitchen without sparing a glance at Wally or Artemis, who were bickering on the couch, or Superboy, who was staring at the static filled TV screen. He rushed into the kitchen, quickly locating the can of sauce and pulling it out. "Hi Miss M!" he greeted before rushing out again. "Bye Miss M!"

"Uh…hi?" M'gann responded, a bit confused as he ran away. She turned back to the cookies she was attempting to make, wondering if she would ever fully understand Robin. Somehow, she doubted it.

* * *

"I have sauce!" Dick announced proudly, placing it on the counter next to the pot of now boiling water. He leaned over, staring at the bubbling liquid. "Hey, Bruce? I think you're supposed to put the noodles in now," he said. Bruce grabbed the box, dumping the contents inside. Dick stared as the long noodles started to cook, his stomach once again reminding him of how empty it was. "How long until you think it'll be ready?" he asked, crinkling his nose at the thought of waiting.

Bruce glanced at the pot for a moment. "I have no idea."

* * *

"The kitchen is on fire!" Dick shouted, rather unnecessarily. His blue eyes were wide as he stared at the flames. "How do you set _spaghetti_ on fire?"

"I don't know!" Bruce shouted back as the smoke alarm began to go off. He was looking a bit flustered before he finally spotted the fire extinguisher. He aimed it at the growing flames. Soon, the kitchen was full of the smell of burnt sauce and noodles, and cold white foam. "Alfred is going to kill you," Dick commented.

"You helped," Bruce pointed out.

"Yeah, but it was your idea!" Dick countered.

"What exactly is going on here?" Alfred's voice was a bit stuffy, but quite firm as he stared at his two charges, who immediately turned sheepish and reluctant to talk.

"You're supposed to be sick," Dick said lamely.

"I'm feeling better," Alfred informed, eyes sweeping over the mess.

"We'll clean it up," Dick assured him. "Even though it was all Bruce's fault."

Alfred raised an eyebrow as Bruce immediately began defending himself, which turned into a heated debate between the two. With a sigh, the butler left; he could scold them for this later.

"-it was your fault!"

"But you're the one who-"

They stopped arguing when they realized Alfred had left. Dick glanced at Bruce helplessly. "What are we going to eat now?" he asked.

"…We'll order take-out."

* * *

**A/N **This is why Alfred can't get sick, and why Bruce is never allowed in the kitchen again. ;) Sorry if there's any OOCness, I wrote this pretty late at night.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	16. 4th of July

**A/N **Just a short little one-shot of Bruce and Dick on the 4th of July. Happy Indepence Day, everyone! :D

**Disclaimer ***sigh* Though it pains me to say it...I still don't own Young Justice.

~Aiva

* * *

Bruce couldn't cook; that was painfully obvious. Anytime he attempted to use a stove, there was always a kitchen fire that followed. Yet, for some reason, he could use a grill. No one was sure why; maybe it was because it dealt with fire more directly, and let's face it, Bruce probably knows how to deal with fire. And the fact that Dick pestered him into using the grill every opportunity he had. Usually, Bruce could get out of it, but this was one occasion he could never come up with an excuse for. That didn't stop him from trying though.

"Please, Bruce?" Dick pleaded, attempting his famous puppy dog eyes. Bruce didn't look down, but he winced as he imagined the look. "I'm busy now, Dick," he sighed.

"But…it's a _holiday!" _Dick insisted. "It's tradition! You can't just not do it!"

"Double negative," Bruce chastised, tapping him on the head lightly. Dick scowled at him, crossing his arms as he rolled his eyes. "Fine. You have to do it," he said, revising his original sentence to conform to the rules of grammar. Which, in his opinion, were overrated anyway.

Bruce nodded, satisfied at the correction, which elicited another eye roll out of Dick. "Come on, Bruce," he wheedled.

"I'm busy," he repeated.

"But-"

"No buts, Dick."

"I'll tell Alfred," Dick threatened. Between the English butler and the Dick-pout, there was no way Bruce could say no.

"And I'll tell him what really happened to that old vase," Bruce retaliated.

"Bruce!" Dick said, sounding as heart-broken as possible. He tugged on his adoptive father's sleeve, making Bruce look down. He cursed mentally when he met those tear-filled baby blues. "Fine," Bruce grumbled, giving in reluctantly. Dick beamed, the wide grin lighting up his face instantly as he hugged Bruce. "Yes!" he cheered before racing out of the room, adding a flip or two just for fun.

He slid down the banister eagerly, leaping off before he hit the knob at the end. He landed lightly, racing past Alfred, who had a disapproving look in his eyes at the boy's antics. He couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips though; Dick must've finally gotten Bruce to agree to using the grill.

* * *

"Is it done yet?" Dick asked, standing on tip toes to peek over Bruce's arm. The mouth-watering scent of cooking meat filled his nose, and his stomach grumbled cheerfully in anticipation.

"Almost," Bruce answered, amused by his obvious delight. Dick grinned back up at him, and Bruce found himself smiling back. A few minutes later found the two carrying plates piled up with hotdogs and hamburgers, ketchup already covering Dick's face. Bruce handed him a napkin, which Dick accepted sheepishly once setting the food down. He dug in, only looking up to grin at Bruce again.

"Thanks, Bruce," he said. Both of them knew he was talking about more than just the food, and Bruce reached out to ruffle the boy's dark hair, causing Dick to grin even wider.

* * *

The Dynamic Duo could be found outside that night, lying on their backs in the garden, staring up at the sky while they waited for the fireworks to start. The first firecracker shot into the air, exploding into sparks of red, white, and blue. Dick curled up closer to Bruce, his head resting on the man's chest as he watched, entranced by the spectacular display of lights and explosives.

As the night wore on, the last firework exploded, signaling the end of the show. Bruce nudged Dick, who mumbled sleepily in response. Letting out a small sigh, Bruce gathered the boy into his arms, carrying him back into the manor. He tucked the blankets around Dick, who he thought had falling asleep while going up the stairs. "Don't go," Dick mumbled sleepily, hand latching onto Bruce's arm in a death grip. Bruce paused before nodding, laying on the bed beside Dick, who immediately curled up next to him.

Right before falling asleep, Dick cracked his eyes open, glancing out the window. A shooting star flashed across the sky, barely noticeable after the fireworks. Dick smiled though, bittersweet. When he was younger, he would've wished for his parents back; now, he had accepted that that would never happen, which was the only way he could go on with life. So he just curled up even closer to Bruce, whose arm wrapped around him in response.

There wasn't anything he needed to wish for.

* * *

**A/N **Eh, not entirely happy with the ending, but whatever. *shrugs* Hopefully, it was okay anyway. ;)

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	17. Batmobile

**A/N **This is basically a sequel to chapter 11. ^^ May I say how amazing you guys are? I'm so close to 200; I bet we can get over that with this chapter! :D

**Disclaimer **I don't own Young Justice or the Batmobile (my dream car 3)...

~Aiva

* * *

_Saturday._

"Dude, you can't even reach the pedals!" Kid Flash blurted from the back. Robin turned around to face the speedster, expression darkening as a glare formed. Speedy shifted positions so he was partially in between the two. "Dick, I really don't-"

"Guys, this isn't the first time I've driven the Batmobile," Robin insisted.

"And you're still alive _how?" _Kid Flash asked, green eyes widening. Batman liked his car, and was super protective of Robin – the term "DaddyBats" was created for a reason. Robin just laughed, revving the engine. Speedy immediately gripped the edges of his seat while Kid Flash let out a startled squeak.

"We're gonna die!" Kid Flash screamed as they left the Batcave.

"Oh, please," Speedy snorted. "It's no worse than your driving!"

"Hey!" Robin broke in. "I take offense by that! I'm _much _better than KF!"

"Tell that to the _skid marks _behind us!" Kid Flash shouted back.

"I did that on purpose!" Robin said, dismissing the comment with a wave of his hand.

"Both hands on the wheel!" Speedy reminded.

"…I bet I can drive with no hands," Robin said mischievously.

"NO!" Speedy and Kid Flash screamed simultaneously.

"Oh, come on guys. Feel the aster," he grinned.

"Stop slaughtering the English language and pay attention to the road!"

"I don't _slaughter _it," Robin retorted. "I play with it. It fascinates me."

Speedy groaned. "Thank you for that lovely insight, Robin. Now, will you please _watch the road!"_

"Seriously, I know what I'm doing," Robin insisted. To prove his point, he made a series of sharp turns that left even Kid Flash breathless. The acrobat just laughed, his cackle filling the vehicle. Kid Flash glanced at Speedy, wide eyed. "He's gone mad," he remarked.

"Could a mad person do _this?" _Robin asked, skidding to a sudden stop that ended up making them spin in a half circle.

"Yes!" Kid Flash and Speedy shouted, once again simultaneously. Robin blinked, then rolled his eyes. "Gosh, guys. It's not like I'm risking your lives or anything."

The gingers shot him a look that clearly said _"of course you're risking our lives!"_

"Fine…I'm risking your lives safely," Robin amended as he stomped on the gas.

"First prefixes, now oxymorons?" Roy mumbled. "I'm starting to wonder if you're determined to get death threats from your English teachers."

Robin just cackled again as he screeched around a corner. It was then he heard police sirens, wailing behind them. Kid Flash turned around. "Dude, they're chasing us!" he said, then groaned. "Flash will kill me if I get arrested again."

"Again?" Speedy asked, raising an eyebrow. The speedster's face flushed. "Don't ask," he mumbled.

"Was it that incident at Subway?" Robin asked knowingly. Kid Flash nodded sheepishly, eliciting another laugh out of Robin while Speedy shook his head slowly. "I'm not going to ask," he muttered.

"So…what do I do about the cops?" Robin asked, still driving, just not as fast as before.

"Outrun them!" "Stop!" The responses came at the same time, and the Boy Wonder blinked.

"Way to be helpful, guys. Hey, wouldn't helpful mean "full of help"? So-"

"Wrong time, dude!" Kid Flash interrupted.

"Let's just stop and see what they want," Speedy advised reluctantly.

Robin mumbled something intelligible under his breath as he cruised to a surprisingly gentle stop. Huh. The Boy Wonder really _was_ a better driver than Kid Flash. Robin opened the window, peeking his head out. The poor police man glanced into the car, eyes widening slightly. Due to the darkness that came with night, and the blackness that was the Batmobile, he had been unable to make out what car it was. Now he knew, but it wasn't even Batman driving.

No, it was three brightly-colored, teenage vigilantes. Kid Flash seemed a bit apprehensive, Speedy just glared, but Robin actually waved, a wide grin on his face. "Hey, officer!" he greeted cheerfully.

"Uh, hey…Robin," the cop responded awkwardly, eyes flitting from face to face nervously. He cleared his throat. "You…were speeding," he finally mumbled.

"Uh, yeah…this is the Batmobile. It tends to go fast," Robin responded, raising an eyebrow.

"And…you're minors," the police officer continued, stumbling slightly over the words.

"Last time I checked," Robin agreed.

"Do you have a license?"

"Nope!" Robin responded cheerfully.

"I'm going to have to detain you then," the cop said, wincing inwardly as he said the words. He could already tell this wouldn't end well; his first week on the job, and he was going to fail because of a bunch of teenagers. At least he could console himself with the fact that they were heroes…that made it less humiliating, right?

Speedy snorted. "Good luck with that," he muttered.

"Hey, do you know what time it is?" Robin asked suddenly.

"11:14," Kid Flash spoke up. Robin's eyes widened slightly. "Crap," he cursed. He looked back up, grinning at the cop again. "Gotta run!" he said, slamming on the gas before the police officer could react. They drove off, and the cop's eyes widened. "Hey! You can't do that!" he spluttered, leaping into his own car as he called for backup.

Kid Flash groaned as more sirens joined the first. "Aunt Iris is going to kill me too," he informed, seeming resigned to his own doom. Speedy shrugged. "Ollie probably won't care too much…he might lecture me for a minute, tops." The two gingers glanced at Robin pityingly. "Batman is going to murder you though."

"You got in the car too," Robin shot back, knowing fully well Batman would only target him after getting revenge on Speedy and Kid Flash.

"I'm too young to die!" Kid Flash shouted. Robin just laughed, then frowned. "I think that cop was new. The other guy shared his donuts with me."

"Wait, you've been pulled over before?" Kid Flash asked.

Robin shrugged. "A couple of times, yeah. Batman usually makes me clean the Batcave afterwards, but it's worth it."

"…I want donuts," Kid Flash grumbled.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, the police officer trudged back into the building. Another cop looked up, a friendly smirk on his face. "Robin take the Batmobile for a joyride?" he guessed. He laughed when he saw his assumption was correct. "Ah, happens every few months. Catching him won't work. I just give him a donut and then he'll usually leave."

* * *

Batman glared at the three boys as they emerged from the Batmobile: he had, of course, heard about the rather interesting high-speed chase the police went through. Speedy at least knew enough to look a bit sheepish, and Kid Flash was hiding behind the older ginger. Robin, however, wore a large grin that didn't fade a bit when his mentor stared at him disapprovingly. "Robin, you'll be washing the cars. All of them," he instructed sternly. He then resumed glaring at the other two. "You will be helping him."

They groaned simultaneously. "I'll show you guys where the stuff is," Robin sighed, trudging off. It only took a few minutes before all three were drenched in soapy water, and Kid Flash and Robin were throwing rags at each other while Speedy attempted to dump a bucket over the speedsters head. Batman shook his head, ignoring them as he resumed his work. He doubted he would ever fully understand teenagers.

* * *

**A/N **Yeah, Robin is a way better driver than KF...and he gets donuts, too. ^^ Hmmm...now I want some donuts.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	18. Short Pants

**A/N **No idea where this came from; I just got really bored. Total crack and random nonsense, so...enjoy! ^^

**Disclaimer **I don't own the 1960s Batman, Star Wars, or Young Justice.

~Aiva

* * *

They were attempting some team bonding. So far, it wasn't going so well. "It's on fire!" Wally shouted, rather unnecessarily as he attempted to beat the flames out with a towel. Of course, the towel had to catch on fire too. Wally yelped, throwing it on the ground as he stomped on it desperately, Robin unable to keep himself from snickering at the sight. There was a flash, and Wally looked up to see a camera in the younger boy's hands. The speedster glared, and Dick grinned. "Souvenir," he shrugged.

Wally scowl deepened, causing Artemis to laugh as well. "Uh, guys?" M'gann asked weakly. Immediately, Connor had her in his arms, helping to move her away from the flames and closer to Kaldur, who had wisely moved away already. The laughs died down after that, and Robin finally pulled out an ice pellet, throwing it at the flaming oven. The fire shrunk quickly before finally disappearing into a final puff of smoke that left everyone coughing.

"No one tells Batman," Robin said seriously, before letting out his trademark cackle. "Who's up for some movies?"

"Ooh! Can we watch-"

"Wally, we're not watching Star Wars _again. _The last _three _times we hung out, you made me watch all six."

"No, I have something recorded!" Wally insisted, looking far too excited to make anyone feel comfortable or safe. They followed him anyways, though it might have been against their better judgment.

Somehow, they all ended up sitting on the floor. Artemis found herself sitting next to Wally, who was hoarding a bowl of popcorn, Kaldur was sitting against the couch, and M'gann had her head resting on Connor's shoulder. Robin, however, found himself behind Wally. He scowled as he struggled to peek over the redhead's shoulder, forced to rise up on his knees to get a good glimpse of the large screen. Wally noticed this and started laughing, clutching his stomach as he glanced at his best friend.

"Dude, you're so short," Wally snickered. Robin gave him the Batglare, but that didn't deter the speedster. Surprisingly, it was Artemis who joined in. "I thought he was vertically challenged," she grinned.

"For your information, I'm space efficient," Robin responded, crossing his arms as his glare darkened. Wally just laughed harder, ruffling the Boy Wonder's dark hair. "Sure you are," he said as patronizingly as possible. Robin seemed prepared to launch himself at the speedster, but Kaldur stepped in.

"Wally, what is it you wanted to show us?" he asked, calm as ever.

"Oh, yeah!" Wally brightened, pointing the remote at the television. Robin let out a groan as the theme filled the room. Wally, of course, was singing along. "Na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na, Batman!"

"Wally, I swear, if you sing that one more time, I _will _feed you piece by piece to the bats," Robin threatened, dead serious as he glared from behind his sunglasses. Wally stopped singing.

"Uh, Robin?" M'gann piped up. "Why aren't you wearing pants?"

Robin buried his face in his hands, letting out a groan as his face turned bright red. He remembered the last time Wally had made him watch the old Batman episodes that looked like they were from the 60's or something. Unfortunately, he had done so while at the manor. Bruce wasn't happy, to say the least.

"Short pants!" Wally shouted, laughing once again.

"It was a _leotard, _and I only wore it once!" Robin shouted, raising his head as he glared again.

"Short pants!"

"Leotard!" Robin insisted, face an even brighter red.

"Short pants!"

"LEOTARD!"

"And when exactly did you go out in short pants?" Artemis asked. Wally shoved a hand over Robin's mouth to keep him from responding, but the Boy Wonder got out of it easily by elbowing the speedster in the ribs. "It was a leotard, and I was nine," he scowled.

"Why did Batman let you wear a leotard?" Connor asked, incredibly confused.

"He didn't; I left without him knowing."

"Oh…" Connor frowned, still a bit confused, and a bit disturbed at the image of one of his teammates running around Gotham in a leotard.

"Shh! Here comes one of the best lines!" Wally hushed quickly.

"Holy schizophrenia, Batman!" "Robin" shouted on the screen.

Robin groaned again, now glad that he was too short to fully see. "Can't we just watch Star Wars?" he pleaded.

"But you're so cute!" M'gann argued.

"I want to keep watching," Artemis agreed.

A few minutes and one lame fight with Mr. Freeze later, Robin had had enough. He took the remote, turning it off quickly. Wally opened his mouth to argue, but shut up as soon as he found himself dangling upside down from the rafters, partially tied up with Batrope.

"Anyone else want to argue?" Robin asked, hand already on his utility belt. He nodded when no one responded, stalking out of the room in a way that made him look scarily similar to Batman. The team, minus Robin, glanced at each other, reaching a silent conclusion; this was the last time they let Wally pick the movie.

This was only proven further as Wally spoke, unable to keep himself from adding, "Tune it tomorrow - same Bat-time, same Bat-channel!"

* * *

**A/N **Yeah...well, I did warn you that it was total crack and random nonsense. Hopefully it wasn't too bad though. ^^

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	19. 15 Things to Do at WalMart

**A/N **This is an idea Blue Torpedo gave me. :D Wally, Dick, and Roy do the "15 Things to Do at Wal-Mart" list.

**Disclaimer **I don't own Young Justice, Pikachu, or Wal-Mart.

~Aiva

* * *

"Somehow, I doubt this will end well," Roy muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose as he attempted to alleviate the headache now forming.

"Come on, Roy!" Wally insisted. "It'll be fun!"

"You have to do it," Dick added, blue eyes wide as he stared pleadingly at the older ginger.

"Fine," Roy gave in, taking the sheet of paper from Dick as they walked in the Wal-Mart doors.

**1. Set all the alarm clocks in Electronics to go off at 5-minute intervals.**

"Dick! You do this one!" Wally said, pushing his friend towards the long line of alarm clocks. Dick gave that cackle of his, wasting no time as he started fiddling with each alarm clocks. The first one started to go off, quickly followed by the second and third, but the younger boy didn't stop, continuing down the line.

Finally, Dick stepped back, observing his handiwork proudly. "Done!" he announced, cackling again as people started peeking into the aisle curiously. The loud noise of beeps, rings, and buzzes was overwhelming, but it was worth it to see the beet-red face of one of the Wal-Mart employees.

"Run!" Roy shouted, the three racing off, still laughing.

**2. Make a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the rest rooms.**

Dick pulled a can of tomato juice off of the shelf. "We'll pay for it later," he assured as he popped it open. Wally took the can from him, thrusting it at Roy.

"It's your turn," he insisted.

"No," Roy said. "I'm perfectly fine watching you two behave like idiots."

Wally pouted, and Dick attempted the puppy-dog eyes again. "Please, Roy?" the ebony pleaded, tears streaming down his cheeks. Roy felt his will crumble, and he took the can from Wally. Dick beamed, wiping away his tears quickly as Wally cheered. They pushed him towards the bathroom. "Do it quick," Wally urged.

Roy had the feeling he would regret this, but dumped the can over, making a trail of the red liquid leading up the boy's bathroom. "Do the girl's one too," Wally instructed as Dick attempted to hide his laughter. Roy's face immediately flushed red. "No. No way," he said, shaking his head firmly.

"You don't have to go _in," _Dick said, still laughing. "Just go up to the door."

"Hurry!" Wally added, glancing behind him.

Roy groaned. "I'm not doing it, guys," he insisted firmly.

"Guys, we gotta go," Dick broke in, noticing the employee nearing them. They disappeared into the clothing section nearby, still staring at the employee to see his reaction. It was the same one from earlier, and his face turned the same shade of red as he stared at the tomato juice. Sputtering, he disappeared, coming back a moment later with a mop. As he was cleaning, some guy passed by, his eyes widening comically at the red liquid staining the floor.

They couldn't make out the words, but the conversation going on was clearly amusing, The employee was gesturing wildly as he pointed to the tomato juice on the floor, and the customer's face was now red and he still looked a bit nervous. Laughing even harder now as the man ran off, the three disappeared deeper into the clothes.

**3. Walk up to an employee and tell him/her in an official tone,**

**" 'Code 3' in housewares"... and see what happens.**

"Who's doing this one?" Wally asked.

"It's your turn," Dick answered, pointing to a nearby cashier. She was young and pretty, her blonde hair tied back into a ponytail. "And no flirting," Roy added, noticing the speedster's suddenly dreamy gaze. Wally scowled, but walked over anyways.

"Excuse me; the manager wanted me to tell you "Code 3 in housewares"," Wally said, clearly trying hard not to flirt and sound as serious as possible. It must've worked, because the girl's eyes widened and she ran out from behind the counter. "Oh dear," she mumbled. "Uh, thank you," she said, glancing at Wally before running off, speaking into the walkie-talkie she carried quickly.

"I'm impressed," Roy said, glancing at the younger ginger while Dick stared after the running cashier, grinning widely. "You didn't flirt at all."

"Yeah," Wally grumbled, crossing his arms in clear disappointment.

**4. Go the Service Desk and ask to put a bag of M&M's on lay away.**

"Roy, you do this one," Wally said, shoving a large bag of M&M's into the archer's hands. Roy shook his head, passing it on to Dick instead. "No way. It's Bird Boy's turn," he responded.

Dick frowned. "Bird Boy? Really?"

"Would you prefer us to use Boy-"

"No!" Dick interrupted. He hated the nickname Boy Blunder, a fact the ginger's knew very well. He accepted the bag of M&M's, making his way over to the Service Desk quickly. "I need to put a bag of M&M's on lay away," he said as serious as possible.

Their confused expressions made him run off cackling again, taking the M&M's with him.

**5. Move a 'CAUTION - WET FLOOR' sign to a carpeted area.**

"Wally's turn," Dick said.

"Okay," Wally agreed readily. "Uh…where's the wet floor sign?"

Dick handed it to him; no one asked where he got it. Wally found a random rug, placing the WET FLOOR sign on it. A mother and her daughter passed by, the mother about to walk across it. The little girl – maybe five or so – stopped her. "Mommy, we can't walk there," she said, eyes wide, "There's a wet floor sign on it. We could slip."

"It's okay, sweetie," the mother assured. "Whoever put that there was being an idiot."

Dick and Roy snickered, glancing at Wally pointedly.

**6. Set up a tent in the camping department and tell other shoppers you'll invite them in if they'll bring pillows from the bedding department.**

"Roy's turn!" Wally and Dick shouted simultaneously.

"Fine," Roy agreed with only a bit of hesitation. "But you two are helping me build the tent."

The tent was up in a matter of minutes, and they sat inside eagerly. Hearing someone pass by, Wally poked Roy repeatedly. "What?" the archer hissed.

"You have to ask them," Dick answered instead.

"Great," Roy grumbled sarcastically. He stuck his head out the tent door, looking up at the man standing there. He was large and muscled, tattoos trailing up his arms. "You can come in if you bring some pillows from the bedding department," he invited after a brief second of hesitation.

"Sure!" the guy agreed, an almost sinister look on his face as he walked away to go get some pillows. Roy glanced back at the younger teenagers, who's eyes were wide even as they tried to stifle their laughter. "Run," Roy said. They struggled to get out, leaving a mangled tent behind them as they ran off.

**7. When a clerk asks if they can help you, begin to cry and ask,**

**"Why can't you people just leave me alone?"**

Dick grinned, walking up to a clerk without any hesitation. "Can I help you?" he asked helpfully, a friendly smile on his face. Dick's face fell immediately, tears filling his blue eyes as he stared at the clerk. He sniffled, tears streaming down his face as sobs made him shake. "Uh…sir? Are you okay?" the clerk asked, putting a concerned hand on the boy's shoulder.

Dick shook him off, collapsing on the floor as he wrapped his arms around himself. "Why can't you people just leave me alone?" he managed to ask between sobs.

"I'm…sorry?" the clerk attempted. "I won't do it again."

"Thanks!" Dick cried cheerfully, brightening immediately as he leapt to his feet. He ran off, leaving a thoroughly confused clerk behind.

**8. Look right into the security camera & use it as a mirror, and pick your nose.**

"Yes!" Wally cheered. "I've wanted to do this one!"

Roy shook his head slowly. "Of course you did," he said, feeling his headache returning again. Wally grinned, standing in front of the entrance. He faced the screens that showed the feed from the security cameras, making sure they had a good look at his face as he carefully picked his nose, grinning the whole time.

**9. While handling guns in the hunting department, ask the clerk if he knows where the anti - depressants are.**

"I want to do this one!" Dick announced, running towards the hunting department before Roy or Wally could comment. He slowed as he reached the aisle, picking up a gun and staring at it curiously as he twirled it in his hands. He glanced up at the employee nearby, blue eyes wide and curious. "Do you know where the anti-depressants are?" he asked innocently.

The employee's eyes widened, and he snatched the gun away quickly. "Check the pharmacy," he said, eyes still comically wide.

"Thanks!" Dick beamed, running off.

**10. Dart around the store suspiciously loudly humming the "Mission Impossible" theme.**

"I want to do this one," Wally spoke up. Dick handed him a phone, and the speedster cocked his head curiously. "What's this for?" he asked.

Dick opened up the music app, and the Mission Impossible theme started playing. He turned the volume up all the way, and Wally grinned, running off suspiciously, humming along.

**11. In the auto department, practice your "Madonna look" using different size funnels.**

"It's Roy's turn," Dick grinned.

"No," Roy said, shaking his head firmly. "Even an angry Bruce couldn't make me do it."

Dick immediately started the puppy-dog eyes while Wally pouted pitifully. "Still a no," Roy said, crossing his arms stubbornly.

"Darn it," Dick pouted.

**12. Hide in a clothing rack and when people browse through,**

**say "PICK ME!" "PICK ME!"**

"If you don't do this one, I will make you do the Madonna thing," Dick threatened. Roy groaned as Wally shoved him towards one of those circle things that had clothes hanging on it. Roy reluctantly slipped in between some shirts, waiting until he heard footsteps to pop out. "Pick me!" he shouted loudly. "Pick me!"

His eyes widened as he saw it was the Wal-Mart employee from before; the same one who had dealt with the alarm clocks and cleaned up the tomato juice. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave the store," he growled, face still red.

"Run, Roy!" Wally shouted over his shoulder. The archer wasted no time in running after the two teenagers.

**13. When an announcement comes over the loud speaker, assume the fetal position and scream..**

**"NO! NO! It's those voices again!"**

"You do realize if we do this, we're going to be kicked out of Wal-Mart," Roy said seriously. They were currently hiding behind a lot of rolls of paper towels and toilet paper, peeking out occasionally to make sure they were still in the clear. "We can hide again," Dick shrugged.

"Yeah!" Wally spoke up. "He has mad ninja skills!"

"Fine," Roy sighed. "But if I get arrested, Dick is paying to get me out."

"Yes!" Dick and Wally cheered.

"My turn," Dick grinned, leaping out from behind the products.

It turned out he had excellent timing, because an announcement then came over the speakers. "NO!" he screamed. "It's those voices again! I thought I told you to leave me alone!" He made a high keening noise as he curled up into a ball on the floor, rocking back and forth as people gathered around him, eyes wide.

**14. Go into a fitting room and shut the door and wait a while and then yell, very loudly, "There is no toilet paper in here!**

"I've got this one," Wally grinned, racing into a fitting room quickly. He waited a minute, making a variety of creative noises that made even Roy have to use the wall for support, he was laughing so hard. After about thirty seconds came the waited cry. "There's no toilet paper in here!" he shouted as loudly as possible.

Even from outside, Roy and Dick could hear the sounds of people gagging, quite a few of them running out. "Wally, run!" Dick shouted as the same employee stomped towards them.

The speedster raced out, running past the two without even waiting. Roy followed and Dick ran too, cackling wildly.

**15. Get several bouncy balls and throw them down an aisle shouting "Pikachu, I choose you!"**

"I want to do this one!"

"It's my turn!"

"But I want to do it!"

"So do I!"

"Well-"

"We'll all do it!" Roy interrupted. Dick and Wally shrugged, argument forgotten already as they both grinned, producing bouncy balls and handing on to Roy.

"PIKACHU, I CHOOSE YOU!" all three shouted at once, throwing the bouncy balls down the aisle.

"I defeated you with my Thunderbolt!" Dick grinned, looking at Wally.

"And I dodged with Quick Attack," Wally retorted.

"Bolt Tackle!"

"Iron tail!"

Somehow they both ended up on the ground, wrestling each other as Roy shook his head slowly in the background. The employee walked up, face so red it was scary now. He grabbed Wally and Dick by the ear. "Get out," he seethed even as he called security.

Despite their protests, all three were thrown out of the store. Untangling themselves from one another, Roy glared at the younger teenagers. Wally merely gasped, eyes widening in excitement as he glanced at Dick. "We should do this at Target!" he exclaimed.

"Same time next week?" he asked, grinning widely.

"You two can drive yourselves home," Roy said, slipping into his car.

"Roy, wait for us!" Wally yelped as he drove away. The speedster glanced at Dick curiously. "What do we do now?" he asked. Dick glanced around, eyes picking out a smoothie store nearby.

"Let's go," he smirked. Slapping each other high fives, they raced inside, laughing like maniacs.

* * *

**A/N **I think this was one of my longest chapters. XD Oh, and thank you all for the reviews! I can't believe I just broke 225...I'm still used to getting, like, 10 or something, lol. ^^


	20. Big Brother

**A/N **Normally I get around 12 reviews a chapter. You know how many I got for the last chapter? 25. Let me say that again. _25. _You guys are seriously amazing! Thank you all so much!

**Disclaimer **Me no own. D:

~Aiva

* * *

"Rooooy," Wally pleaded, giving the archer his best puppy dog eyes. While they weren't quite as powerful as Dick's, they still made the older ginger hesitate. Wally held his stomach piteously, moaning as it grumbled loudly. "I'm _hungry."_

"You can wait a while," Roy responded, glancing away.

"I'm hungry too," Dick spoke up, wide blue eyes filling with tears as he stared at Roy.

"…Fine," Roy grumbled. "But you guys _stay here." _He wasn't about to take them into - well, any really public place, actually - after the _last time. _Let's just say Wally and Dick had had one to many milkshakes and ended up…well, Roy didn't really want to remember it. Wally's face lit up, and Dick latched himself onto Roy's leg cheerfully. "Thank you!" he beamed.

"Yeah, okay," Roy muttered, though his face softened. Why did this kid have to be so adorable? He managed to pry Dick off of his leg, staring at them firmly. "Stay. Here," he repeated. Bruce would kill him if anything happened, and that wasn't really something Roy wanted to relive. Staring at their wide eyes and eager faces, he sighed; something was going to go wrong, he just knew it.

* * *

"Let's go do something," Wally said, tugging on Dick's sleeve. Dick frowned, blue eyes blinking up at his friend. "But…Roy told us to stay here," he argued.

"We won't go far," Wally insisted. "We'll just look around some."

Dick hesitated, then nodded. "Okay," he agreed.

* * *

"Wally, I blame you," Dick mumbled, wincing as the words aggravated his throbbing headache.

"How is this my fault?" Wally demanded, tugging against the ropes tying his wrists together. It did nothing but chafe his skin, and the speedster finally admitted defeat, slumping against his restraints.

"Well, let's see. First you decided it would be a good idea to run off, then take a shortcut through an _alleyway. _Nothing good ever happens in alleyways in Gotham!"

"You came along!" Wally protested.

"You _dragged me," _Dick retorted, sounding more irritated than he usually would be. He was an easy-going, cheerful kid by nature, almost always seen with a smile on his face. But honestly, he had been kidnapped too many times, each time scarring in some way or the other. And though he wouldn't admit it, he was scared; he was only ten, after all.

Wally seemed to sense this, all urge to argue fading quickly. "Would it help if I said sorry?" he asked.

"Sorry won't get us out of this, Wally," Dick responded, blue eyes staring firmly at the ground.

"No, but Roy will! He's probably looking for us now, ready to yell at us for being idiots," Wally said, trying to lighten his friend's mood.

"I wonder if Bruce has found out by now," Dick said, thinking out loud.

"They'll come for us, Dick," Wally assured. "We'll be out of here in no time."

Dick gave him small, grateful smile. "Thanks, Wally. I-" Whatever he was going to say next was cut off as a couple of thugs entered the room. Immediately, the two boys stiffened, glaring warily at their captors. "What do you want?" Dick asked coldly, a frown hardening his face.

"Shut up," one snarled, landing a harsh blow on the back of the boy's head.

"Dick!" Wally shouted, struggling fiercely against his restraints. He was forced to freeze as a gun was pressed to his head, swallowing hard as his face paled behind his freckles.

"Stay away from him," Dick growled, sounding pretty darn intimating for a ten-year-old.

"Looks like little Richard needs a lesson in respect," the one who hit him sneered. He wasted no time in aiming his own gun at Dick, who stared up at him with wide blue eyes. A loud bang ripped through the air, and Dick couldn't help but let out a small cry of pain as the bullet tore into his leg, just above his right knee. He clamped his mouth shut as quickly as he could, squeezing his eyes shut tightly as tears streamed down his pale cheeks.

Despite his experience at Robin, Dick didn't have the mask on. He could let his pain show, and didn't bother trying to stop the choked sobs that slipped out. "DICK!" Wally shouted again, even more desperate to escape and help his friend, practically his little brother.

"Shut up!" the criminal repeated, a snarl on his face. Wally honestly could care less about the gun pointed at him at this point, and glared at him defiantly. He opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by a loud thud as a familiar figure burst into the room. He wasn't in costume, but the bow and arrows in his hand screamed "mess with me and die".

"Roy!" Wally shouted in relief. Dick glanced up, tears shining on his cheeks as he stared hopefully at the older ginger. Roy growled, taking out the first thug in a matter of seconds, rage fueling his actions. He was left bloodied and bruised on the floor, moaning softly; Roy wasn't nice enough to knock him out completely. "Freeze, or I shoot," the second villain ordered, pressing the gun harder against Wally's head. Roy shot him a glare, eyes icy and hard. Quicker than most eyes could follow, he nocked another arrow, shooting it at the guy's hand. He let out a cry as the blunt tip made contact with his skin, dropping the gun as he cradled it to his chest.

Roy gave a small grin of cold satisfaction as he rammed his elbow into the thug's nose, then kneeing him in the soft spot. He would've done worse, but Wally's scared voice stopped him. "Roy! Dick's hurt!" the speedster shouted, a small tremor in his words. Roy stiffened, dropping the thug to the floor as he rushed over to his brothers' sides, fully taking in their appearances for the first time.

Wally's scruffy hair was messier than normal, the red locks sticking up all over the place, making him look almost like an anime character. His wide green eyes only added to this thought, and they were filled with concern and worry. His freckles stood out against his pale skin, and dried blood coated one side of Wally's head.

Dick looked far worse. He sagged against the ropes tying him to the chair, and though his skin was pale, his cheeks were flushed pink. His dark hair hung in his face, partially hiding his tear-filled baby blue eyes. The denim of his pants was dark with blood, and Dick sniffled as he stared at his "older brother". "Roy," he sniffled, clearly trying not to cry again.

"Shh, Dickie-bird," Roy hushed soothingly. "I've got you." He untied Wally first, and the speedster then helped him untie Dick, who snuggled into Roy's chest as soon as he was free, biting his lip to keep from crying out. "What happened?" the archer asked, the question directed at Wally.

Wally gulped, face paling further as he hovered anxiously over his younger brother. "W-we got bored, so I thought we c-could go do s-something," he started, beginning to stutter. "A-and we went into an a-alley, and these guys g-grabbed us and knocked us out. We woke up here, and then Dick was sh-shot in the leg."

"You idiot!" Roy practically shouted, glaring furiously at the speedster, who shrunk under his gaze. "What were you thinking? You could've been killed!"

"I'm sorry," Wally whispered, tears filling his own eyes.

"Roy," Dick spoke up, small arms wrapping around the older's chest in a desperate hug as he trembled.

Roy pulled them both into a hug. "Hey, it's okay," he said softly. He was forced to stand up after a few seconds, trying to ignore Dick's cries of pain as his leg was moved. "I know. I'm sorry, Dickie-bird," he soothed. "Just hang on."

Dick nodded, though tears began to soak Roy's shirt. He squeezed Wally's offered hand tightly as they made their way to Roy's car quickly, leg moving with every step. Roy handed Dick to Wally, who had no problem carrying the small boy in his arms. Dick ended up stretched out in the backseat, head resting on Wally's lap as the speedster quietly comforted him.

Roy was trying to get to the hospital as quickly as possible, inwardly cringing every time he thought of how much Dick had to be hurting. He let out a small growl; if it hadn't been for his injuries, those criminals would be very, very unfortunate. Well, more unfortunate than they already were. Roy breathed a small sigh of relief as they reached a fairly close by hospital. He skidded to a stop, Dick letting out a small sound of pain at the quick movement. "Sorry, Dick," Roy winced, practically leaping out of the car to pick the small boy back up in his arms.

* * *

When Bruce was finally informed, he made his way over to the hospital as quickly as possible, rushing to his son's room without any hesitation. He walked in, and was met by an adorable sight. Dick was underneath the covers, hiding the bandaging on his leg, head resting against Wally's (who was sprawled out on the bed, one arm dangling off) chest as he slept. Roy had his arms around Dick's small frame, managing to look like a protective older brother even when sleeping.

Feeling a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, Bruce pulled up a chair, sitting next to the bed. He would let them comfort his little bird for a while.

* * *

**A/N **25. Yeah, I'm going to be happy about that for a while. :D Okay, so I do have suggestions that I'm working on. One of them is having Barry babysit the demonic trio, as I fondly refer to them. ^^ I have a few plot bunnies, but not enough to write a whole chapter; so I'm asking you guys what you want to see happen. I need suggestions people! ;)

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	21. Babysitting

**A/N **You know how I was so happy because I got 25 reviews? I just got 27 reviews for the last chapter. I don't know why this is so popular, but I'm not complaining! :D You guys are still amazing. And I'm only 4 reviews away from having 300...yeah. I'm ecstatic right now; feeling the aster!

This chapter is for READINGhearts17, who suggested having Barry babysit the demonic trio. ^^ Thanks to everyone who gave me suggestions and ideas!

**Disclaimer **I own an Avengers cup. But that's not even from this universe...yeah.

~Aiva

* * *

"Bruce, I got it," Barry assured. "Have him in bed by nine, make sure he takes a bath, no sugar of any kind, and call if he has nightmares."

Bruce scowled, glaring at the speedster anyway. "I swear, Allen, if he's not home in one piece, I _will _kill you," he promised.

"I thought you didn't kill?" Barry joked. Bruce's glare was answer enough, and he swallowed hard. "Right," he muttered.

"Bye, Bruce!" Dick beamed, hugging his adoptive father's leg tightly. Bruce hugged him back. "Be good for Mr. Allen, Dickie," he said quietly. Dick nodded, grinning up at him one more time before racing off to go find Wally and Roy. Bruce stood, taking the opportunity to give Barry the DaddyBats glare yet again. "I'm watching you, Allen," he finally growled.

Barry shut the door, trying to ignore the shivers now running down his spine as Wally and Dick ran back into the room.

"Can we have cookies?" Dick asked, the eight-year-old tugging on the speedster's sleeve pleadingly. "Please, Uncle Barry?"

"I don't know…" Barry hesitated, Bruce's threat still clear in his mind.

"Come on, Uncle Barry!" Wally joined in, green eyes filling with tears. Dick had taught the ginger crocodile tears, and Barry hadn't really been able to say no to his nephew ever since. He left that job to Iris. "Just one cookie?"

Dick didn't really wait for an answer, climbing up Barry nimbly and perching on his shoulders. "Can we run there?" he asked, wrapping his small arms around his head to secure his position. Wally latched on to Barry's leg, grinning up at his uncle. Even as he attempted to pry Dick's arms away from his eyes, Barry couldn't help but laugh, shaking his head as he did so; how could these kids be so dang _cute?_

"Sure thing, kiddo!" he agreed easily, all previous concerns erased by the sheer adorableness that was an eight-year-old Dick and a ten-year-old Wally. The room blurred around the three as Barry ran into the kitchen, adding a burst of speed. He was rewarded by Dick's laughter, and Wally's cheers. "Let's eat Oreos!" Wally suggested quickly, pulling out the box quickly and cramming a few in his mouth.

Dick grinned, grabbing one and licking the cream off. Two cookies later, he blinked up at Barry. "We need milk," he announced, grinning at him with Oreo-stained teeth; still cute.

"Ooh!" Wally spoke up, bouncing up out of his spot on the floor, where he had randomly sat down. "I'll get it!" He raced over to the fridge, grabbing the carton and racing over. Somewhere in those few feet between Dick and the fridge, he tripped, milk spilling over the floor.

That's what Roy walked into. Wally was sprawled on the floor in a puddle of milk, fiery hair plastered to his head as he stared sheepishly at his uncle. Barry was frozen, caught between staring at Dick (who was on his fifth Oreo) and Wally. "You let them have sugar?" Roy asked, voice low and dangerous as he stared disbelievingly at the speedster.

"Roy!" Wally and Dick shouted simultaneously. Wally attempted to leap up, only to slip in the milk, whacking his head painfully on the floor. "Ow…" he moaned, rubbing the back of his head. Dick giggled, and held up an Oreo innocently. "Want one?" he offered, holding it out to the archer.

Roy shook his head, reaching out to scoop the tiny acrobat up in his arms. Dick dodged easily, stuffing another cookie in his mouth as he did so. "Run, Wally!" he cried, running across the countertop now, the whole box of cookies clutched to his chest. "He wants to take them away!"

"Wait, Dick!" Wally shouted, attempting to get up again. He succeeded, but Barry picked him up. The younger speedster struggled in vain against his uncle. "I want cookies too," he pouted, crossing his arms as he finally stopped struggling.

"You. Let. Them. Have. Sugar," Roy repeated, glaring daggers. Barry cleared his throat awkwardly as he put Wally down. The energetic redhead immediately ran off, and Barry and Roy groaned simultaneously.

* * *

They couldn't find Wally or Dick, and it had been twenty minutes. Roy knew it was normal for Dick to vanish for hours at a time, but if Wally was gone this long too…well, it was time Barry started checking to make sure he had paid his insurance. Barry had decided they would split up, Roy agreeing. Which meant Roy didn't have any back-up as a small, sticky hand was shoved over his mouth. "Mmpphh!" he complained as loudly as he could as he found himself on the floor, Wally and Dick sitting on top of him. Dick's hand was still shoved over his mouth, and both were giggling.

"Hi, Roy!" Dick chirped, waving with his free hand. His mouth was covered in Oreo dust and colored sugar. Wally wasn't much better, but he also had a chocolate milk mustache.

"Mmpphh!" Roy repeated, rolling his eyes.

"Give it to him!" Wally urged. The archer's eyes widened; give _what _to him? He trusted these kids with his life when they were out on patrol, but he didn't exactly trust them to make good decisions when under the effects of sugar. The fact that they had pinned him down hadn't exactly made him feel any safer. "Mm mmph mglarb!" Roy protested, attempting to wriggle his way out from underneath the two. They were surprisingly strong, and Roy made no progress whatsoever.

Wally produced a few pixie stix, and Roy relaxed some. If it wasn't some random chemical, he could manage. Dick attempted to look as serious as possible as he took them from Wally, though it was ruined some by the mess still covering most of his face. "Eat them, or I'll tell Aunt Dinah what you told us about Bruce and Selina," he threatened.

Roy winced, imagining exactly how Dinah would react. Dick, sensing the archer would give in, removed his hand, thrusting the pixie stix in his face.

Roy rolled his eyes again, managing to get his arm free. He took them, downing them quickly. "Happy?" he asked. Dick and Wally grinned at each other, then back down at Roy. "Play with us!" Wally urged, bouncing up and down on the archer.

* * *

A few minutes later, and Barry was now trying to find Roy as well as Wally and Dick. He groaned, already imagining what Bruce would be saying right now. And Iris; he didn't really want to face either one. "Roy?" he called out. "Come on, Arrowhead!" Normally, that nickname at least made Roy glare. Instead, the speedster caught the faint sound of giggles and whispered voices. Following the sounds, he found all three in Wally's room.

Dick was sitting on the dresser, hoarding a massive pile of candy. Wally was jumping on the bed, simultaneously laughing and pouting as he argued with Dick, trying to get some more sugar. Even Roy appeared to be sugar high now, walking around on his hands as he stared at the two boys, shaking his head slowly.

Barry groaned, already thinking of what flowers he wanted on his grave. "Uncle Barry!" Wally shouted, a wide grin on his face.

Dick looked up, blue eyes widening as an idea struck him. "GET HIM!" he screamed, launching himself off of the dresser and towards the speedster.

* * *

When Iris opened the door, she didn't quite expect to see this. Barry was tied to a chair in the middle of the living room, yelling for everyone to calm down. No one seemed to be listening. Roy was channel surfing, which wouldn't have been so odd, but he was doing so while hanging off the couch upside down, singing "Call Me Maybe" at the top of his lungs.

Wally was racing around the room, pausing every now and then to stuff another cookie in his mouth and laugh.

Dick was flipping off of every available surface, a blanket tied around his neck like a cape. He kept shouting that he was Batman, and something about kittens and fire.

Iris pulled out her phone, wasting no time in recording the entire thing. She could yell at Barry for letting them have sugar later; for now, she was content to watch the scene play out. She was forced to step in as a loud crash sounded. Dick froze, glancing at the window sheepishly. "Oops," he muttered.

"Bartholomew Henry Allen!" Iris scolded.

Barry looked up, face paling quickly. He coughed awkwardly. "Hey, Iris," he greeted slowly. Roy looked up from the television, pausing in his singing.

"You're name is Bartholomew?" he snickered.

* * *

**A/N **Sorry if anyone was OOC; I've been kind of sick lately, and it's a bit hard for me to concentrate enough to make them stay in character. Hopefully the chapter was still okay, though.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	22. Claustrophobia

**A/N **This chapter is for Don'tWalkUpStairsBackwards, who asked for Wally to have a claustrophobia attack, and for Dick and Roy to comfort him.

**Disclaimer **I don't own Ferris wheels, cotton candy, or Young Justice.

~Aiva

* * *

_I really have to stop letting them convince me into taking them out on patrol, _Speedy thought, scowling disapprovingly at the two boys he was stuck here with. In the archer's defense, it wasn't like he was letting them take on super villains; they were sticking to random thugs and thieves. But nothing ever went right for the trio, did it? Robin glanced up from the nonexistent door knob, letting out a frustrated huff. "I can't pick the lock," he announced, sounding disappointed and irritated.

"Probably because there's no lock to pick," Kid Flash pointed out, a hint of a laugh edging his words. It didn't sound like his usual laugh though, as if it was fueled by nervousness rather than amusement. Robin tilted his head to one side as he studied his best friend, slightly confused.

The speedster's face was pale, the bright yellow color of his cowl making that even more prominent. His green eyes were wide and showed a hidden glimmer of panic as he forced himself to look at the Boy Wonder. The weak grin on his face was shaky and obviously forced, and Kid Flash's hands were clenched into tight fists at his side. His whole body was tense, on edge, as if he was about to take of running any second.

"Kid, you okay?" Speedy asked, taking a step closer as his eyes narrowed with concern.

"I'm fine," the speedster insisted, waving off his concern quickly. A bit too quickly, actually.

"You're still a bad liar," Robin noted, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The expression faded as he studied his friend even closer; something was seriously bugging him. "Come on, KF. What's wrong?" he asked, trying to coax the answer out of him.

"N-nothing," Kid answered hastily, though his voice shook. Actually, his whole body was shaking, trembling like a leaf in the wind. He wasn't quite vibrating yet, but he was getting close, and his face was growing steadily paler as his wide eyes flitted around the small room anxiously.

Kid Flash shut his eyes, but that made the air seem thinner, almost like it wasn't there. He could practically sense the walls closing in around him. It was about the size of a small bathroom, and the speedster was starting to freak out. He had been able to fight the fear for the first few seconds after being shoved inside, but it was starting to overwhelm him. He started to panic, reaching out for escape only to find his hand hit the wall before his arm was even full extended. Letting out a soft sound, his eyes shot open, staring wildly at the door as if willing it to open.

He couldn't really stop himself as he began to hyperventilate, his gentle shaking turning into full out vibration. His outline blurred, and Kid Flash wished nothing more than to vibrate his molecules out of this insanely small space, to escape what felt like a death trap. A small whimper slipped past his lips as he pressed harder against the wall, panic starting to override any coherent thought.

"Kid! Snap out of it!" Speedy practically shouted, interrupting the speedster's panic attack. The gingers locked gazes, and the archer winced at the sheer panic in the younger's eyes. "Roy," he whispered, green eyes wide and fearful. "Get me out. Please. Get me out."

_Crap, _Speedy thought silently, scolding himself for not remembering his younger brother's fear earlier. Deciding no one could hear them anyway and Kid had already used his name, there wasn't much harm in calling him Wally. It was clear the speedster needed something more familiar to snap him out of this, to calm him down. He was having a panic attack, and there wasn't much Speedy could do to get him out.

He could still be the big brother Kid Flash needed though. "Come here, Wally," he coaxed gently, voice dropping to a softer tone. He opened his arms, inviting the speedster to come closer. "N-no," Kid whispered, squeezing his eyes shut again as he wrapped his arms tightly around himself. The thought of being hugged right now, someone's arms around him, trapping him, was torture right now. He just wanted to get out. He _needed _to get out _now._

Kid Flash tensed as arms wrapped around him anyway, though it wasn't the person he expected. This wasn't the strong, firm embrace of Speedy; it was the gentle, small one of Robin. The Boy Wonder snuggled up to his older brother, trying to be as comforting as possible. "It's okay, Wally," he assured quietly, his voice even and soothing. "Close your eyes, okay?"

Kid nodded shakily, keeping his eyes shut firmly. He tried not to vibrate, instead trembling fiercely. "I n-need to get o-out," he said shakily, voice trembling almost as much as his body.

"We will get out," Robin assured as Speedy joined their hug, pulling his younger brothers onto his lap and hugged them both, rubbing Kid Flash's back soothingly.

"I n-need to g-get out _now," _he stressed, green eyes shooting open. He started to struggle, pulling away from their embrace in his panicked attempts to get out.

Speedy pulled him back, inwardly wincing at the tears now streaming down the speedster's cheeks. Robin looked at him, eyes wide and solemn behind his domino mask. "Wally, close your eyes," he repeated gently, his voice somehow leaving no room for argument at the same time.

Kid Flash forced his eyes shut, though tears continued to trickle out of them. Robin pulled him closer, carefully making sure the speedster's face was buried in his small shoulder and Speedy's chest. "Remember that time we went to the fair?" Robin asked softly. "We kicked Roy's butt at bumper cars, huh? And then we tried that hammer thing to test your strength, remember? I ended up beating it, and got that stuffed monkey. And you ate so much cotton candy that the guy wouldn't sell it to us anymore."

Robin let out a small laugh as he continued to talk, trying to distract Kid Flash. It seemed to be working; though the speedster was still tense, he wasn't shaking as badly now, and seemed to be paying attention to what the younger boy said. "Then we went on that spinney thing, and it made Roy throw up because he had three sodas before, and we laughed because he accidentally did it on that lady's shoes, and she hit him in the head with her purse. And before we left, we got to ride on the Ferris wheel, and we saw the fireworks all the way from the top. We each picked a color and made wishes. Do you remember what color you picked?"

"R-red," Kid answered softly. "Like Flash."

Robin smiled. "Just like Flash," he agreed. "And I picked blue, and Roy chose green. You ended up getting more wishes than any of us, but you said some of them already came true. Why did you say that?" he asked, noticing that the speedster wasn't trembling anymore.

"Because I g-got to spend all d-day with you g-guys," he answered, his words muffled and barely audible.

"And remember how Roy dropped his phone? Then a green firework went off, so he wished he had his phone back," Robin continued.

"It broke," Speedy remembered, jumping into the conversation. "Ollie had to get me a new one. But Dickie here broke that one too when he got bored and started hacking my apps."

Kid Flash let out a small, hiccupping attempt at a laugh. "What about the t-time when R-Roy crashed Uncle Ollie's c-car?" he put in, breathing beginning to even out as he focused more on the conversation than the small space.

"That wasn't my fault," Speedy protested, nudging him teasingly. "You kept poking me and asking for food, and Dick kept singing road songs, and the truck turned illegally. Not me."

Robin laughed, Kid Flash joining in for a second. He slowly uncurled himself, wrapping his arms around Robin instead, who hugged him tighter in response. Speedy hugged both of them. "We're here for you, Walls," he assured the younger ginger.

"Thanks," Kid murmured, fear abating as Robin launched into another memory. A small smile actually formed on the speedster's face as he ignored the situation, focusing on their embraces and words instead, relaxing a bit more. His brothers were there for him, and they wouldn't let anything happen.

* * *

**A/N **Lot's of brotherly fluff in there. ^^ Hope you liked it, Don'tWalkUpStairsBackwards!

Okay, I have two ideas I'm considering for the next chapter, and I want to know what you guess want to read. Do you want something more serious, or more humorous?

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	23. Falling

**A/N **More people wanted something serious, so here it is. This chapter is for I. Love. Dick. Grayson (just without the spaces), who asked for Wally, Dick, and Roy to witness someone falling. Brotherly fluff ensues. ^^ Dick is 8, Wally is 10, and Roy is 13.

**Disclaimer **Hasn't changed since last time.

~Aiva

* * *

Roy glanced at the two boys beside him, shaking his head slowly as he handed each of them a napkin. That didn't stop an amused smile from tugging at the corners of his mouth. Wally's hair was messier than normal, the scruffy red locks falling over his forehead and sticking up everywhere else. Wide green eyes blinked back at Roy, and the speedster grinned as he accepted the napkin. Chocolate ice cream was smeared all over his face, partially covering his freckles. He looked a bit like an anime character…well, an anime character covered in frozen dairy products.

Dick had chosen vanilla, and the white ice cream covered his face as well; he had even managed to get it on his nose, somehow. His dark hair was a bit scruffy, though much neater than Wally's, and fell adorably in front of his big baby blues. He accepted the napkin, cheeks flushing a gentle pink as he realized how messy his face must've been. "Thanks," he said, offering Roy a sheepish smile as he wiped the ice cream off of his face.

Wally simply held his napkin, deciding to finish the cone before cleaning himself up. Dick glanced at his enthusiastic bites, a small frown creasing his face. He held out his ice cream towards the speedster. "You can have mine," he offered. Watching Wally eat tended to make the small acrobat lose his appetite. "Great!" Wally beamed, finishing the chocolate ice cream off quickly to accept the vanilla. He finished that one in under fifteen seconds, and Roy handed him another napkin. There was now some ice cream in the younger ginger's hair, making the strands clump together in small, sticky spikes.

Wally had just finished wiping most of it off of his face when the three heard screams up ahead. "Can we…?" the speedster began, clearly hoping to go out on patrol as Kid Flash, Robin, and Speedy.

Roy shook his head, for once deciding to obey Bruce. "Let's see what's going on first," he said instead, speeding up slightly.

Dick fidgeted with the hem of his shirt as he stared curiously ahead, blue eyes scanning the area for any obvious signs of trouble. It wasn't long before they stumbled upon a small figure on top of a tall, tall building, balanced precariously on the edge.

Dick felt his heart drop, face growing a shade paler as he tugged on Roy's arm anxiously. "Roy, we _have _to help," he urged, desperation filling him. He would allow someone else to fall, not when there was something he could do about it.

"The police have it covered," Roy argued, gesturing to the police cars surrounding the building. There were a few other emergency vehicles as well, and people were already rushing inside the building. Wally tugged them forward until they were standing as close as they could, the yellow police tape blocking them from actually reaching the building.

Dick was trembling, but trying to hide it, reassuring himself with the fact that people were already taking care of it. Everything would be fine, nothing was going to happen, no one was going to fall, it wouldn't be… His rambling, panicked thoughts were interrupted as Wally let out a small gasp, standing on tiptoes to get a better look. Dick couldn't help himself, practically climbing up Roy to see.

The man glanced back behind him, where some police and other emergency officials were growing closer, having finally reached the roof in an attempt to stop him from jumping, to what was obviously his death. It seemed to be too late, the man leaning forward, starting to fall, fall, fall…

Dick let out a gasp much louder than Wally's, blue eyes widening as they immediately filled with tears. He dropped back to the pavement, squeezing his eyes shut as he curled into a trembling ball, unable to watch. Small whimpers turned into gentle sobs, and Roy wasted no time in dropping to the ground beside him.

Dick didn't acknowledge the strong arms that wrapped around him, pulling him into a comforting hug. Images flashed through his mind, his sobs growing in intensity as he clutched Roy's shirt, burying his face in the teenager's chest in a desperate attempt to gain comfort. Wally was soon beside him, face pale behind his freckles as he stared at the smaller boy. "Dick, it's okay!" he assured, joining the hug immediately. "They're okay; they didn't fall."

Dick sniffled, body still shaking with uncontrollable sobs as he glanced up at the speedster. "B-but I s-saw them j-jump," he said softly, voice broken and holding far too much sadness for one so young.

"One of the guys ran forward and pulled them back. He's okay, Dickie, I promise he's okay," Wally explained quickly, hugging his little brother even tighter in a desperate attempt to make him feel better.

_"They _weren't o-okay," Dick whispered, fresh tears making their way down his pale cheeks. He couldn't stop the tears any more than he could've stopped their deaths. Seeing that man trying to jump, starting to fall…it was just too much. Their deaths hadn't even been that long ago; even the mention of the word trapeze sent him into tears. The nightmares were every week and this…this was almost like he was reliving it. It opened up all of those wounds, shattering those flimsy walls that had only barely started to form.

Wally didn't have a response to that; nothing he could say would take away the pain, a fact that practically drove him insane at times. Roy rubbed comforting circles on Dick's back, rocking back and forth gently. "Shh, Dickie-bird," he soothed. "We're here. It's alright."

"N-no, it's not. H-how can it b-be alright?" Dick asked, voice muffled as he buried his face in Roy's chest again. He cried for what felt like forever, though it couldn't have been that long. He was still crying when he pulled his face away, though it was just sniffles now instead of sobs. "Are…are you sure he's okay?" Dick asked, tear-filled eyes wide as he glanced at Wally.

"Positive," Wally nodded.

"Do you want to go see him?" Roy asked, sensing that Dick still couldn't help but doubt. He wasn't sure how he was going to get to the man, but he would find a way to get Dick at least a glimpse.

Dick hesitated, then nodded. He needed to see it. He needed to know for sure that at least _someone _survived. Roy picked him up, Dick wrapping one arm around the archer's neck to secure his position, though he held Wally's hand with the other. Roy made his way closer to the vehicle the guy was being loaded into, struggling to get a glimpse over people's heads.

Deciding enough was enough, Roy ignored the yellow tape, ducking under it to move closer. "Hey, you're not supposed to be here!" one cop shouted, barging over to them.

"It's a free country," Roy retorted, eyes narrowing dangerously as he held Dick closer.

"You think you're funny, huh?" the cop asked, not looking amused at all. "Get back on the other side!"

"Listen, I'm holding a crying kid who had to watch his parents fall to their deaths just under a year ago. He needs to see that this guy is okay. I'm not going to sit here and take your crap," Roy practically shouted, his ears starting to turn red with frustration.

Dick stared at the cop with wide, baby blue eyes. Tears still flowed freely down his face, which held an expression of such deep sadness it would take someone without a heart to not feel sympathetic. "P-please?" he sniffled.

Realizing he wasn't dealing with a smart-aleck teenager, he was dealing with a sobbing little kid, the cop softened just a little bit. "Sorry, kid," he said gruffly, clearly trying to maintain his tough look. "I can't let anyone pass."

Roy growled, and even Wally was glaring at this point. Dick's face crumpled before he buried it back into Roy's shirt, ignoring the wet spots already there from his previous tears. The trio reluctantly left, though the redheads were still plotting; they weren't about to give up that easy, not if they would be letting their little brother down. Dick interrupted their evil plans. "I-it's okay, guys," he mumbled, still crying a bit. "You s-said he w-was okay, so he i-is."

"So you're okay then, Dick?" Wally asked anxiously, green eyes wide as he peered at his best friend.

Dick paused, then nodded slightly. Roy gave a small sad smile. "You can tell us the truth," he said, nudging the boy.

Dick sniffled before shaking his head. "N-no, I'm n-not okay," he admitted. "It hurts. It h-hurts really b-bad."

"I know it does, Dickie-bird," Roy murmured soothingly. "But it'll get better. I promise."

"Yeah!" Wally jumped in. "We'll be right here, and Bruce will be too. We'll all help you feel better."

"Thanks," Dick said softly, a small smile actually appearing on his face. "You guys are the best big brothers ever."

* * *

**A/N **I feel like the dialogue is a bit weak, but whatever. Hope you guys liked it anyway.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	24. Ferris Wheels

**A/N **Sorry for the long wait guys. I had writers' block, but I really wanted to post this chapter before leaving on vacation. Anyway, this is based on chapter 22, where Dick was talking to Wally about that day at the fair. This is what happened. ^^

**Disclaimer **I don't own cotton candy, Ferris wheels, or the Demonic Trio.

~Aiva

* * *

Dick inwardly winced at the bright splashes of color, the cheerful noises of the crowd, the familiar scents washing over him. The fair wasn't quite like the circus, but the similarities stuck out painfully to the young boy. His previous excitement faded, and Dick shrunk back, hiding his face in Roy's jeans. "What's up, Dickie-bird?" Roy asked softly, glancing down.

Dick simply glanced up at him with wide blue eyes that were slowly filling with tears. "Oh," Roy said, realization dawning on him quickly. _Stupid, _he scolded himself silently, _why the heck would you bring him to the fair? _It hadn't been that long since he lost his parents; long enough so where he didn't have nightmares every week, but certain things still brought up the painful, scarring memory.

Wally knelt down, wrapping his arms around Dick in a warm hug. "It's okay, Dick," he said, voice uncharacteristically quiet as he struggled to comfort his best friend. "We don't have to go to the fair. We can go to the park! I bet we can get Roy to push us on the swings and everything."

Dick allowed a few tears to slip out before sniffling, wiping the rest away with the back of his hand. He shook his head. "N-no," he responded, "I w-want to stay. Just…g-give me a second."

"No problem, Dickie-bird," Roy assured, his strong arms now wrapped around both of them. "Take as long as you need."

Dick pulled away after a moment, still sniffling, but looking a bit more relaxed. "Sorry," he whispered, blue eyes falling to the ground, "I didn't mean to cry."

"Don't be sorry," Wally grinned. His smile was infectious, and Dick soon had a small one on his face as well.

"So, what do you want to do first?" Roy asked, quickly changing the subject and distracting Dick.

Wally answered the question though. "Food!" he shouted, running off to where the cotton candy was.

Roy rolled his eyes and Dick giggled, holding the archer's hand as the followed the energetic speedster. Wally was already chatting with the guy running the stand, who was looking a bit confused at the sudden word spew.

Roy handed over the money. "Three, please," he said, nudging Wally aside. The speedster pouted slightly, but brightened considerably when he was handed the stick coated in the fluffy, pink, sugary goodness. Dick managed a total of five or so bites before he wrinkled his nose, his appetite ruined by watching Wally eat. He offered the speedster his, and Wally eagerly accepted.

"So what do you guys want to do now?" Roy asked, after walking around for a bit and finishing his own cotton candy.

"Bumper cars?" Dick suggested, pointing towards the small arena that had been set up.

"Yeah!" Wally agreed cheerfully, grabbing Dick's hand and tugging him closer.

Roy followed, finding Wally in a bright orange car that almost matched his fiery hair. Dick had picked a green color, and Roy chose yellow. Dick grinned at Wally, the expression looking scarily mischievous. "Get him!" Dick shouted, flooring the pedal in the bottom. Wally followed his lead, and the two rammed their cars into Roy's, who let out a manly (not) yelp.

He attempted to move away from the two, but Wally stopped him, Dick ramming into the car from behind. "Hey!" Roy protested, Wally and Dick laughing.

He bumped Wally back, a small trail of blood suddenly forming on the speedster's lip and trailing down his chin. "Ow!" Wally yelped, the salty taste of blood filling his mouth. He glared at Roy, who stared back a bit guiltily. "Sorry, Walls," he offered.

"Are you okay?" Dick asked, blue eyes wide with concern.

"Roy made me bite my lip," Wally grumbled, wiping the thin stream of blood from his chin. He grinned anyway. "I'm fine," he assured.

"How about we do something else?" Roy suggested.

"Can we get more cotton candy?" Wally asked eagerly.

"You already ate two," Roy argued.

"But Roy," Wally pleaded, green eyes filling with tears, "My mouth really, _really _hurts now."

Roy winced. Curse those tear-filled puppy dog eyes. "Alright," he agreed slowly, stepping out of the area. Wally brightened, tears disappearing immediately. "Yes!" he cheered, running towards Roy and giving the archer a tight hug. "Thanks, Roy!"

"Group hug!" Dick shouted, launching himself at the two and knocking them over in a tangle of limbs, much to the amusement of the people passing by.

Dick slipped off of them with a grin, blue eyes shining. Roy shoved Wally off of him, who let out a small sound of protest before jumping up again. "More cotton candy," Wally reminded, poking Roy repeatedly in the arm.

Roy shoved him lightly away, tossing the speedster a wad of money. "Go nuts," he said, though he was suddenly overcome by the feeling that this wasn't going to end well. That feeling grew stronger as Wally ran off laughing loudly, shouting something about "fluffy sugar".

Dick glanced up at Roy, blue eyes serious. "Should we go after him?" Dick asked.

Roy considered the idea for a moment before shaking his head. "Nah," he decided. "He'll be fine."

"Roy…he called it fluffy sugar. I don't think that's fine," Dick pointed out, forehead crinkling in thought.

Roy waved it off, and Dick suddenly grew excited. "Bounce house!" he cried, dragging the archer towards the inflatable structure.

* * *

Roy sipped on his third cup of soda – in his defense, keeping up with a ninja and a speedster was very thirsty work – watching Dick bounce. The boy was showing off his acrobatic roots, doing all sorts of crazy flips and stunts that made the other kids stop and stare, eyes wide and jaws practically hitting the floor. One little girl, looking to be around five or six, bounded up to Dick. "Teach me how to do that!" she said, eyes wide with awe.

"Sure," Dick grinned, demonstrating the proper way to do a front flip. All of the kids watched in awe, and then he helped a few of them actually do it.

"Dick," Roy called out, a bit reluctant to end the moment, "We need to go get Wally now."

Dick nodded, waving good-bye to the kids. The girl ran up to him, hugging him tightly. "Thank you, Dick!" she cried, beaming up at him. "You're really fun!"

Dick came off of the bouncy house practically glowing, and a grin formed on Roy's face just looking at him. "Have fun?" he asked, ruffling the boy's dark hair. Dick nodded in immediate agreement, grin widening. He bounded ahead, tugging Roy along to go find Wally.

* * *

The speedster was still by the cotton candy stand, mouth coated in the sticky pink substance. He was pouting, arms crossed as he attempted the puppy dog eyes on the cotton candy man. "He won't give me any more," Wally complained as soon as he saw Roy.

"He eats too much!" the man protested. "He's going to make me run out at this rate!"

"Wally, I'm pretty sure you've had enough," Roy sighed, ignoring the puppy dog eyes and handing the speedster a napkin.

Wally cleaned his mouth off, grumbling under his breath as he followed Roy and Dick away from the cotton candy. "Let's do the bell thingy!" he said suddenly, racing over to the "bell thingy". It was one of those games that tested your strength, and Dick brightened. "I bet I can do it," he said, running ahead of Wally.

The man running the game took in Dick's small size. "This game might be a bit hard for you, little man," he said, trying to act nice but coming off a bit patronizing. Dick's blue eyes hardened, and he crossed his arms stubbornly. "I can do it," he insisted.

He reached for the hammer. It was heavier than it looked, and the acrobat had to brace himself firmly against the ground. His training with Batman came in handy though, and he brought the hammer down with a loud bang. The little rectangle shot up, hitting the bell before falling back down. Dick beamed, running back over to the prize booth.

The man let a small whistle, impressed. "Alright, which prize do you want?" he asked, stepping to the side to let the small boy view the selection.

"The monkey," Dick said, grin widening as he was handed the stuffed animal. It was about half his size, and he clutched it tightly in his arms. "Thank you!" he said before racing back off to Wally and Roy.

"Good job, Dickie-bird," Roy grinned, ruffling the boy's hair. Dick seemed to glow again at the small praise, blue eyes lighting up adorably. "Can we go on that spinney thing?" Wally spoke up.

"Sure," Roy agreed, the three heading over to the ride. They got inside, Dick still holding the monkey tightly in his arms, despite Roy's arguments. "Mr. Banana stays," Dick insisted firmly, the stern tone in his voice adorable.

Roy chuckled, and the ride started. It seemed to last forever to the archer, who felt suddenly nauseous. Finally it stopped, and he got off groaning. Wally was stifling giggles at the green tinge to Roy's face, and Dick looked a bit concerned. Roy, his stomach very unsettled, finally gave in and threw up. Unfortunately, there happened to be a lady walking by then, and Roy's vomit went all over her nice shoes. The lady gasped, taking a step back in horror, as if that would somehow help.

Feeling a bit better now that he had emptied his stomach, Roy straightened, face flushing a deep red. "Sorry, ma'am," he muttered sheepishly. In response, the lady whacked him with her large, heavy purse. "Idiot!" she shouted, her voice shrill. "These shoes cost $79!"

"Idiot yourself!" Roy retorted, rubbing his suddenly sore head. "Who wears expensive shoes to the fair?"

The lady sniffed, walking off, looking insulted. Wally and Dick were on the ground laughing now, and Roy couldn't help but join them. "You…threw up…on…her shoes!" Wally gasped out, clutching his stomach as giggles continued to escape him.

Dick regained his composure before the gingers, and glanced up at the sky. "It's getting kinda dark," he noted. Sure enough, the orange and pink sky was already fading to a dusky purple color.

"Let's go ride the Ferris wheel before we leave," Roy invited. Wally nodded eagerly, standing up. Dick let out a small yawn, and Roy scooped him up. "Getting tired?" he asked, an edge of amusement in his voice.

Dick shook his head stubbornly, causing Roy's smile to grow. They walked over to the Ferris wheel, somehow managing to squeeze into the same seat. Roy was in the middle (unfortunately for him), Dick on his left and Wally on his right.

As they went up, fireworks started. They were lucky enough to stop at the top, giving them an excellent view of the fireworks show. When it was about half way over, Dick spoke up suddenly. "We need to make wishes," he announced. "We each pick a color. I'll do blue."

"I pick red!" Wally jumped in cheerfully. "Like Flash!"

"I guess I'll go with green," Roy shrugged. They resumed watching the sky, picking out their chosen colors and making random wishes. It got a bit more serious after a minute. "I wish they were here," Dick whispered, the words barely audible as blue sparks shot through the sky. Roy heard them, and wrapped his arm around his "little brother".

Red exploded across the sky next. "I don't need to wish for anything," Wally said unexpectedly.

"Why?" Dick asked, cocking his head curiously.

Wally shrugged. "I don't need anything else. I got to spend all day with you guys," he explained, a bit sheepishly.

Roy normally would've teased him about being so cheesy, but decided not to just this once. "We need a picture together," Dick announced, a small grin forming.

Roy pulled out his phone to take a picture, but it slipped from his fingers, falling all the way down onto the ground. They all stared down at where it had fallen for a moment before a green firework went off. "I wish I had my phone back," Roy grumbled.

The laughs of his little brothers brought a smile back to his face. Maybe Wally had a point; there wasn't much else to wish for.

* * *

**A/N **So I'm going to be gone until the end of this week, or the beginning of next week, and I won't be able to write anything at all. I promise to update as soon as I can though.

And wow...375 reviews. That's awesome! I bet we can make it to 400 by the time I get back. :D Oh, and if anyone has any cover ideas, I would love to hear them. ^^

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	25. Cats

**A/N **I'm back! Not entirely happy with this chapter, but considering the writers' block I've had, I'm going to post it anyway. Hopefully you guys still like it. ^^ Thanks for all the reviews I've gotten; I can't believe so many people like this fic!

**Disclaimer **Yeah, no. I don't own.

~Aiva

* * *

Robin was perched on the edge of the building, feet swinging through the air freely, hitting the wall every now and then. He stared down at the ground, expression clearly bored. His eyes suddenly narrowed behind his domino mask, and he glanced up at his mentor hopefully.

"No," Batman answered before Robin even said anything. If that boy asked to stop and get ice cream one more time…

"I didn't get to ask anything yet!" Robin protested, that familiar pout forming on his face as he attempted the puppy-dog eyes. Even with his baby blues covered by a mask, it was effective.

Batman sighed through his nose. This stake-out was going nowhere, and they had been out there three hours already; he didn't have much patience left. Taking the relative silence as an opportunity to speak, Robin beamed. "There's a cat," he announced.

"A…cat," Batman repeated slowly, unsure of exactly where he was going with this.

Robin nodded eagerly, gesturing down at the ground. "It's stuck in a tree," he elaborated.

Batman immediately knew what he was thinking. "Robin, we don't have time to get cats down from trees."

Robin's pout returned. "But we've been sitting here for _three hours!"_

"Your point is?"

"Nothing's happening, and we're supposed to help people!" Robin continued, already reaching for his belt.

"We're supposed to _protect _people," Batman corrected. "And somehow I doubt getting a cat down from a tree is necessary for Gotham's safety."

"You never know. One day, that cat could become the Bat-cat," Robin argued.

"The day we get a Bat-cat is the day Agent A stops making cookies."

Robin's eyes widened, clearly horrified at the thought of no cookies. "Okay, maybe it won't be a Bat-cat. But we still need to help it!" he insisted.

"We're not helping the cat."

"But Batman!"

"No buts, Robin!"

"I'll…I'll tell Alfred," Robin threatened, struggling to win the argument. It didn't seem like it was working too well right now.

"That I wasn't letting you waste your time on a cat when we're supposed to be on patrol? Go ahead," Batman responded immediately.

Robin frowned, crossing his arms as he let out a frustrated huff. "Don't make me cry," he warned. He could summon fake tears at will, a skill that came in handy when he was begging.

"Robin, you're not going after the cat," Batman repeated, an edge of irritation beginning to form in his voice.

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am!"

"Robin! Enough," Batman said, effectively ending the argument.

Robin scowled, glancing back at the ground. He then looked back up at Batman, who let out a heavy sigh. _Here we go again, _the man thought.

"There's a girl too," Robin pointed out. When his mentor didn't respond, Robin continued. "She's crying. Because her cat's stuck in a tree."

Why a girl, looking to be only around five or six, was out on the streets at what had to be close to eleven at night, Batman had no idea. Seriously, this was Gotham. Six-year-olds should not be chasing after their cats alone in Gotham.

"Please, Batman?" Robin pleaded, the white lenses of his mask widening slightly in an adorable expression.

Batman ignored the small headache forming. "Fine," he gave in, the edge of annoyance still clear in his voice.

"Yes!" Robin cheered. He pulled out his grappling hook, swinging down to the tree easily. His familiar laugh filling the air, he landed among the branches, the action looking almost effortless. "Here, kitty, kitty," he coaxed, holding out his hand for the cat to sniff.

It was a little gray tabby with a frayed piece of ribbon tied around its neck for a makeshift collar. Its green eyes were wide, and the feline let out a half-hearted hiss as Robin reached out closer. The Boy Wonder stroked the cat with a gentle hand, a wide grin forming as the cat relaxed, a small purr actually slipping out. Gathering the tabby into his arms, he slipped down the tree, landing lightly on the ground.

Small arms wrapped around him, the girl hugging him suddenly. She beamed at him before taking the cat with a delighted cry of "Fluffy!" Stroking the cat's head, her smile widened further, if possible. "Thank you!" she cried, blinking away the tears that had formed in her wide eyes. She hugged Robin again, even tighter than before.

Robin laughed, hugging her back. "No problem! Try not to let Fluffy get away again, okay?"

She nodded eagerly. "I won't!" she promised immediately, nuzzling her small face into the cat's soft fur. "I won't ever let him get away again! He's my family," she added seriously. "Right after Daddy left, I found a kitten. Mommy let me take care of it, but then she got sick. Grandma says she went to go see Daddy, up in Heaven, so I have to stay with her while they're away, so Fluffy keeps me company. Grandma says…she says they're not coming back, even if Mommy promised. I don't want to believe her. I want to see Mommy and Daddy again. Do you think I will?" she asked suddenly, her child-like innocence edged with loss now.

Robin had become silent, hands clenching into tight fists at his side. This girl had lost her parents, like he had. He stood frozen for a moment, unsure how to respond. Her sad eyes snapped him out of it as she sniffled. "They're not coming back," she whispered.

"No, they're not," Robin said softly. "But you _will _see them again. I promise."

The girl blinked up at him before nodding. "Thanks, Robin," she said, the small smile returning to her face. "You're a hero, so you wouldn't lie to me. And you have to know everything to be a hero. So I have to see Mommy and Daddy again now," she stated matter-of-factly, the logic making perfect sense in her mind.

Robin nodded, hiding his own sadness for her sake. "I don't know everything. But I do know that. Just remember them, okay? No matter how long it takes, you'll see them again."

"I will," she promised, hugging Fluffy tighter. She ran off, using her free hand to wave at him as she disappeared.

Robin stood there for a moment, not really willing to move as he fought back the sadness rushing through him. Batman came up behind him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Robin finally moved, glancing up at the man gratefully. "I'll be okay," he said softly, answering the silent question. After a moment where neither spoke, Robin decided to break the silence.

"So…do you think we can rescue more animals? 'Cause there are these squirrels…"

"Robin, we're not helping _squirrels. _A cat is one thing. Rodents in trees are another."

"They're fluffy, cute, and eat peanuts!"

"Peanuts are bad for squirrels," Batman stated.

"…Oops. I still think we should-"

"Robin. There will never be such a thing as a Bat-squirrel."

"Darn."

* * *

**A/N **So we have a tiny bit of angst mixed in with some humor. Sorry it's so short; the next chapter will be longer, I promise!

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	26. Kids

**A/N **I bet we can make it to 460 reviews with this chapter. ^^ I can't believe how many people actually like this; it's amazing.

Anyway, I've been reading quite a few different fanfictions involving de-aged characters, and I wanted to write something involving a little Dick. This is the result; hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer** I don't own...anything, really. Anything you recognize, isn't mine.

~Aiva

* * *

This wasn't exactly what Roy expected to see when he opened his door. Bruce was wearing his familiar scowl, looking more irritated than usual as he kept his hand firmly on the boy beside him. That, actually, wasn't all that unusual. What was unusual was the boy beside him. He looked to be around five, though he seemed much smaller than average, looking up at Roy with adorable baby blue eyes.

His small face lit up at the sight of the archer. "Roy!" he shouted happily, launching himself at the teenager and nuzzling into his leg. "Hi! Bruce said I'm gonna stay with you!"

Roy's arms wrapped around Dick instinctively even as he glared at Bruce. "What. Happened?" he asked.

"Patrol," Bruce responded tersely. "Poison Ivy released unknown spores. They should wear off within a few days, but I need someone to watch Dick in the meantime."

"And why can't you do it?" Roy asked, raising an eyebrow. "Or Alfred?"

"Alfred is out of town, and I have meetings I need to attend." Clearly, Bruce wasn't happy about this. He wasn't exactly happy about leaving his now five-year-old son with the rebellious teenager either, but he didn't have much of a choice in that one.

"Roy! Let's play a game!" Dick spoke up, tugging on the hem of Roy's shirt to get his attention. He looked up at him eagerly, his big blue eyes shining with obvious excitement.

"What do you want to play?" Roy asked, scooping up the tiny boy in his arms. Dick laughed, delighted at the motion.

Bruce interrupted. "I have to go now, Dickie. I'll be back later."

Dick's face fell, a pout replacing his smile. "But…I'll miss you," he said softly.

"I know, Dick, and I'm sorry, but I have to go."

"Promise you'll be back?" Dick asked, blue eyes wide as he stared at his adoptive father.

"I promise," Bruce nodded.

Dick frowned, still clearly not happy, but he nodded reluctantly. "Be good for Roy," Bruce said before leaving.

Dick stared after him, snuggling deeper into Roy as he sniffled. "I know what'll cheer you up," Roy said suddenly, bringing the boy inside his apartment.

Dick blinked up at him curiously, and Roy grinned. "You wanna call Wally?" he asked.

Dick brightened immediately, nodding eagerly at the mention of his best friend's name. "Yeah!" he agreed excitedly.

Roy chuckled, pulling out his phone and putting it on speaker. _"Hey, Roy. What's up?" _Wally's voice came through the phone.

"Wally! Come play with us!" Dick said enthusiastically, grabbing the phone from Roy.

There was a full second of silence. _"Dick? Are you okay?" _Wally asked. Even through a phone, it was quite obvious there was something…off about his best friend's voice. He sounded cheerful and happy, but almost like he was younger, somehow.

Roy took the phone back. "Poison Ivy de-aged him. He's stuck as a five-year-old for a few days until it wears off. I'm babysitting."

"_Ohhhh," _Wally said, completely nonchalant about the fact that that Dick was now five. _"I'll be over in five."_

"…Was that a joke?" Roy asked, raising an eyebrow. The speedster had already hung up, and Dick jumped onto Roy's shoulders.

"I'm hungry," he proclaimed, giggling as he bounced slightly before flipping back off of the archer's shoulders. "Can I have chocolate milk?"

"No," Roy said quickly. Dick sniffled, fake tears welling up in his wide blue eyes. His dark hair fell messily into his face, framing it adorably. His small lips were drawn into a pleading pout, and he pretty much looked adorable beyond words. "Just one cup, okay?" Roy gave in, unable to say no.

"Yay! Thank you, Roy!" Dick cried, hugging the ginger tightly.

"No problem, Dickie-bird," Roy responded easily, ruffling the boy's dark hair. He walked over to the fridge, aware of the fact that Dick was still clinging to his leg. He didn't bother prying him off; Dick was really light, and he had a grip that could rival Superman's when he wanted to.

Dick was on the counter, contentedly sipping chocolate milk when Wally showed up. The tiny acrobat immediately set the glass down, launching himself at the speedster. "Wally!" he shouted gleefully.

"Hey, Dick," Wally laughed, catching the boy easily. He was taken aback how tiny he was now; sure, he was short as a thirteen-year-old, but as a five-year-old? His small stature only made him more adorable, and Wally felt himself melt into a pile of mush. A look into those big baby blues did that to most people.

"Let's play a game," Dick repeated, excitement clear as he wriggled out of Wally's arms, dropping to the floor lightly. "Tag! You're it!" he cried before running off, giggling the entire time.

Roy shrugged, glancing at Wally. "You're it," he repeated, running off after Dick.

Wally paused, spotting Dick's half-full glass of chocolate milk. He shrugged, drinking the rest of it before chasing after the two.

He caught Roy first, mainly because Dick was perched on top of the fridge again. He kept giggling, glancing back down at the two gingers. "Hi Roy, hi Wally!" he greeted cheerfully, waving. "Can we go to the park?"

"Sure," Roy agreed, honestly relieved to have something that would get Dick down. He trusted the kid's acrobatic skills; the things he could do were amazing. But he was only five, and Roy knew Bruce would kill him if he found out Dick was sitting on top of refrigerators.

"Yay!" Dick cheered, flipping off of the fridge easily. He grinned then tackled Wally's leg, clutching it tightly. Wally attempted to pry the boy off, but Dick wouldn't budge.

"He's not going to let go. It's best just to walk with him there," Roy advised, pulling on his jacket. It was cold out, and it didn't help that it was fairly windy today. He tried to get Dick to put a jacket on too, but the boy refused, holding Wally's leg tighter. "I don't want to wear it," he argued. "It's hot and makes it hard to play."

"It's supposed to be hot, Dick, so it'll protect you from the cold. You don't want to get sick, do you?" Roy asked. Dick let out a small huff, shaking his head. He wasn't going to put it on.

"Dickie, if you put it on, we'll get some hot chocolate," Wally coaxed. The boy brightened, and he let go, pulling the jacket on quickly. "Can we make cookies later?" he asked eagerly.

Wally picked Dick up, tossing him in the air a few inches before holding him, the action followed by a series of giggles from Dick. "I'm sure we can make some," he nodded, grinning at how excited Dick seemed.

* * *

"Wally, Roy! Push me!" Dick shouted, already on the swings. His short legs swung through the air as he struggled to propel himself forward, but it wasn't working very well, and he only managed to rock back and forth a bit. Wally reached the small boy first, giving him a push forward.

Dick laughed, a wide grin forming on his face as the breeze rushed past him, tugging at his hair and practically begging him to go higher. "Higher!" he giggled, the word followed by a cry of delight as Wally pushed harder, the swing moving much faster.

When he reached the apex, Dick let go of the chains connecting the seat to the bar overhead, flying through the air freely. He tucked himself into a ball, doing a backflip before landing lightly on the ground. Delighted, he turned to Wally and Roy. "Good job, Dick!" Roy praised, but was cut off before he could say anything else by a lady walking up to him.

An expression of frustration was clear on her face as she stomped up to the older ginger, a large purse swinging from her hand. "Is that your kid?" she asked.

Roy looked at her apprehensively. "I'm watching him for a friend," he answered after a moment, moving away from her slightly.

The woman frowned. "Well then, young man, tell me; why are you letting a _four-year-old _flip off of swings?" she demanded.

"I'm five!" Dick interrupted, a small pout forming as he crossed his arms. He huffed in slight annoyance; sure, he was short, but couldn't people ever guess his age correctly?

"A five-year-old," the woman nodded, giving the small boy a friendly smile before glaring at Roy again. "Not only was it dangerous for _him, _but my son is going to want to try that now, and I don't want him breaking his neck all because some irresponsible person didn't know how to watch his kid!"

"Sorry?" Wally offered, stepping into the conversation.

"I'm an acrobat," Dick announced proudly. "See?" To prove his point, he did another backflip, grinning as he landed.

The woman turned to Roy, frustration growing.

The older ginger coughed nervously. "Hey, Dickie, why don't you take a break from doing flips for a while, okay?" he suggested.

Dick frowned. "I won't get hurt," he assured. "I won't…" He bit his lip, voice trailing off. He couldn't say the word _"fall". _It was too painful.

Noticing the tears welling up in Dick's eyes, Roy gathered him into a tight hug, Wally glaring at the woman. "We've got this, thanks. You can go now," he said, a clear dismissal. Faced with the possible wrath of two overprotective brothers, and the tears of a little boy, she left.

Dick buried his face in Roy's shoulder, trying hard not to cry. Wally moved closer, putting a comforting hand on the boy's back. "It's okay, Dickie," the speedster soothed, though it wasn't, really. A moment or two passed before Dick finally lifted his head, sniffling as he wiped away from of the tears streaming down his flushed cheeks.

"Do you want to go back home?" Roy asked.

Dick hesitated, then shook his head. "No…I want to stay," he decided, wriggling out of the archer's grasp and landing neatly on the ground. He glanced at the playground equipment for a few seconds before running over to the slide. He climbed up the ladder quickly, then went down, his laughs filling the air again.

* * *

Two hours, and all three were back at Roy's apartment, sitting together on the couch. Dick was nestled in between the gingers, his head resting comfortably on Wally's arm as he watched the television. He sniffed, reaching up to wipe his nose occasionally. Roy glanced over at him, noticing how red the boy's nose was, and the flushed hue of his cheeks. It was clear Dick wasn't feeling too good either, and the archer let out a small sigh. "Dick?" he asked.

Dick sniffled again before glancing up at Roy. "Yeah?" he answered, voice stuffy and soft.

"You got sick, didn't you?"

Dick shook his head stubbornly. "I'm okay," he insisted, though the cough that followed the words insisted otherwise.

"Sure you are," Roy responded sarcastically, reaching over to touch the acrobat's forehead. The archer frowned; he had a small fever.

Dick admitted defeat in this particular argument, leaning his head back up against Wally as he groaned. "I don't feel good," he confessed, another cough shaking his tiny frame.

"You should've kept your jacket on," Roy chastised lightly. The boy had taken it off only a little while after his stunt on the swing, claiming it was making him too hot. Apparently, he was suffering the consequences of that now.

"Sorry," Dick mumbled, sniffling again.

Wally ran his fingers though Dick's dark hair, the motion repetitive and soothing. "Just try to go to sleep, Dickie," he instructed quietly.

Dick nodded, tired blue eyes drifting shut. It wasn't long before his soft snores filled the air, his mouth open slightly to help him breath better, since his nose was stuffy.

Wally glanced over at Roy, stifling a yawn as he did so. "You get to tell DaddyBats that Dick got sick," he said, grinning at the archer's expression.

Roy groaned; he could already tell that wouldn't end well. "Great," he muttered sarcastically. He was so dead.

* * *

**A/N **Had a bit of writers' block near the end, but oh well. I can also do another chapter, involving five-year-old Dick with Bruce. But that all depends on if you guys want me to or not; just review and let me know. ;)

Oh, and I need a cover. I'm not really good at making them, and I don't have any ideas anyway. So if anyone is interested in making one, that would be amazing. ^^

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	27. Coma

**A/N **Sorry for not updating, guys! I was gone, and then had writers' block. I know I said I would do a continuation of Dick as a little kid (a chapter with Bruce) and I'm still going to post that one. I just haven't finished it yet, and decided you really needed an update. That will probably be the next chapter though.

This came from I. Love. Dick. Grayson's story, "Saltwater Room". One of the moments had Dick singing to a comatose Wally, and I got permission to write about it and post it here. Go read the story; it's amazing! Seriously, it was written beautifully.

**Disclaimer **I don't even own this idea, much less Young Justice.

* * *

Things always went wrong somehow, didn't they? If it wasn't kidnappers, it was random criminals. If it wasn't random criminals, it was stupid dares. If it wasn't stupid dares, it was speeding cars. If it hadn't gone so wrong, the fact that it had been a _speeding car_ would've been almost amusing. Now it was just horribly ironic, that because of one, Wally was now in a coma.

Dick had been there; he could've stopped it. He was the Boy Wonder, for crying out loud! But somehow, he was still uninjured and Wally was lying on the bed, still and unresponsive. There was a chance he might not wake up, and that possibility pressed down on Dick heavily, making his heart skip a beat whenever he thought about it for too long.

Even though it wasn't entirely his fault, he couldn't help but think it was. The screeching of the tires, Wally's startled cry cut short, the blood pooling across the asphalt…all of it was painfully clear and vivid in the eleven-year-old's mind. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady himself as the memories continued to overwhelm him, tugging persistently at his mind until he was forced to remember.

* * *

_Dick was sitting on a roof top, feet dangling over the edge as he watched the two speedsters, though they were nothing more than blurs. Wally had challenged Barry to a race, and of course, Barry couldn't resist the challenge. Since Dick obviously couldn't race with them, he was assigned the job of referee, to make sure neither one cheated. How, exactly, they planned to cheat was beyond him, but Dick had agreed anyway._

_Barry was, unsurprisingly, in the lead, though Wally was trying valiantly to catch up. Dick munched on a granola bar he had placed in his belt at some point as he watched, blue eyes observant and amused behind his domino mask. A sudden screech of tires caught his attention, pulling his gaze away from the race and towards another part of the road. _

_It was a car, probably going as fast as it possibly could…and it was on a direct collision course for Wally._

_Dick dropped the granola bar, the snack falling back onto the roof top as the bird launched himself through the air, using his grappling hook. His mouth was open to shout a warning, but it was too late._

_He dropped to the ground just as a dull thud echoed through the air. Dick's eyes widened, and it took everything he had to stop himself from shouting out Wally's name. The redhead's laughter turned into a startled cry, which was cut off almost as quickly as it sounded. The car skidded to a halt, and a few drunk people stumbled out. It wasn't exactly hard to see what had happened; not thinking straight from the alcohol, the driver had decided to impress his friends by driving around the city as fast as he could. _

_Dick's eyes narrowed, and he wanted nothing more than to knock some sense into those idiots…literally. Worry for his best friend wiped away that urge almost instantly, and he rushed to the speedster's side. Dropping to his knees, he anxiously assessed the damage. Surprisingly, Wally didn't actually look that bad; no obvious broken bones, anyway. But his eyes were closed, only the faint rise and fall of his chest indicating that he was still alive._

_That was when Dick noticed the blood. It pooled underneath Wally's head, seeping across the asphalt quickly…far too quickly to be safe. Dick looked over Wally's body again, searching for the injury; he was going to die of blood loss at this rate. Dick found the injury, and couldn't help the small gasp that slipped out. _

_Barry sped over, stopping anxiously beside his nephew. "Kid…" he whispered, the white lenses of his cowl widening._

_Dick ignored the sick, heavy feeling of dread that coursed through him as he glanced up at the Scarlet Speedster. "Flash," he gulped, voice soft but urgent, "he got hit in the head. Bad."_

_Barry inhaled sharply, quickly noticing the blood, the pale hue of Wally's skin. "I need to run him to a hospital," he said, impatient to move, to get medical attention._

"_No! We can't risk moving him, not with that wound," Dick interrupted, though he wanted nothing more than to run the speedster there himself. Barry was vibrating by now, though he caught himself and stopped. He glanced at the civilians who stood in a circle around the trio, worried whispers hanging in the air above them. One glanced at Barry. "I'll call 911," she assured, the phone already against her ear._

_There was nothing to do but wait for the ambulance now. Each second that ticked by seemed to take an eternity, and Dick had a taste of what it was like to be a speedster. Everything was so slow; every second that went by was another second wasted. More blood was trickling out every minute, and Dick honestly wasn't sure how long they had before Wally…he interrupted that thought before he could finish. Wally would be fine; he _had _to be. If he could bounce back from blowing himself up, he could recover from being knocked on the head, right? But he was so still, so pale…_

_The ambulance finally stopped next to them, the wailing siren announcing its arrival. Barry sped off immediately, informing the paramedics of the situation. It wasn't long before Wally was on a gurney and in the ambulance. Dick and Barry refused to leave his side, somehow cramming into the ambulance with the paramedics. _

* * *

_Dick paced anxiously outside the door, waiting for news on Wally. Barry had finally convinced the doctors to let him in, but Dick was still left outside. He stared desperately at the door, willing it to open, for someone to walk through and tell him that everything was fine, that Wally would be okay… _

_A doctor walked through only seconds after that thought, an unreadable look on his face. Dick was at the man's side instantly, eyes wide and hopeful as he pleaded silently for news. The doctor paused, letting out a sigh before speaking. "He's alive…but…he's in a coma. We're not sure if it's permanent or not," he informed._

_Dick froze, face paling. "No," he whispered, before his voice rose in volume. "He'll be okay," he said, as if reassuring himself._

"_If he's going to wake up, it will be within the next few days. If not…" the doctor left that hanging, walking off with only a sympathetic glance in the eleven-year-old's direction. Dick barged into the hospital room to see Wally hooked up to a few monitors, Barry beside his bed. The man looked up when Dick walked in, offering a small smile that looked sadder than it should've. "Wally will wake up, don't worry," he assured, though his voice was quieter than usual, worry edging it. "Bruce already called Leslie, and they're both on their way."_

_Dick nodded, not entirely trusting himself to speak. He moved closer to Wally's bed, the lump in his throat growing with each step. _

* * *

_Dick had been sitting there a while, simply staring at Wally, silently willing his best friend to wake up. He remained as still as ever. Barry cleared his throat. "You need to get some rest," he pointed out, glancing at Dick. "I'll watch him."_

_Dick shook his head, his gaze growing stubborn. Barry let out a small sigh. "At least eat something," he suggested instead, knowing that it was pointless to try and get a Bat to take a nap when they didn't want to. He still didn't get a response from Dick. "I'm going to run and get some snacks from the cafeteria," he finally said, glancing back at the two boys before exiting the room._

_Dick allowed his head to droop forward, blue eyes tired. He was in his civvies now, as was Barry and Wally. Bruce had called ahead, making sure the hospital room was secure enough to protect their identities. The billionaire was on his way now; actually, he was probably in Central at this point. _Wake up Wally, _Dick thought. _

_No response._

* * *

Which brought the eleven-year-old back to the present. Barry still wasn't back, but he could tell Bruce was standing by the door, but Dick made no move to get up from the chair that had been placed beside Wally's bed. He didn't react to the man's presence at all, actually, blue eyes distant. A song popped into his head, and he found himself humming a few notes before breaking into the lyrics.

"_I am not my own. For I have been made new."_

After his parents' deaths, Dick had become closed off, barely interacting with anyone. Nightmares constantly plagued him, and his heart ached so badly he wondered how he could possibly get through it. Bruce had helped him smile again; he was the big reason Dick was able to move on. But Wally had also helped. He had given the boy a best friend; he had helped him become whole again. Helped him become new.

"_Please don't let me go."_

Dick didn't know how he'd be able to smile again if his best friend died. It would be too many deaths…it would take a long time to recover from that, if he was ever able to. Wally couldn't let go; he had to fight, he had to hold on.

"_I desperately need you."_

If Bruce was his father, Wally was his brother. And, quite simply, Dick needed him. He really did need him desperately. Wally was always there with a bright smile or a comment that would make Dick laugh. It seemed like he made it his goal to cheer the boy up. Honestly, they both needed each other. They may not be related by blood, but they had as close of a relationship as any brother ever had. It would be hard to cope without each other.

Dick was aware that he was crying silently, shoulders shaking with gentle sobs as tears trickled down his cheeks. He rested his forehead on Wally's stomach, trying to take some comfort in the warmth of his skin; he was still alive, at least. Ignoring the tears that dampened Wally's shirt, Dick squeezed his best friend's hand tightly, hoping desperately that soon, the speedster would squeeze back.

* * *

It was three days later, and the speedster still hadn't woken up. Dick hadn't moved from his side once, and Barry wasn't much better. Iris could often be found in his room as well; it seemed no one wanted to leave Wally.

Dick was alone, though, when it happened. Bruce had been forced to return to Gotham mere hours ago for some important last-minute meeting; he had only left after Dick assured him he would be fine. Barry had drove Iris home; Iris could drive herself, but she decided her husband needed a break from sitting beside Wally's bed for hours too. Both had made Dick promise to call if anything happened.

Dick squeezed Wally's hand, an action that was now almost a habit. He had done it so many times though, and there had never been a response. Dick let his head droop forward again, blue eyes dull. Suddenly, there was motion against his palm. It was subtle, but Wally's fingers twitched against Dick's hand.

With a soft moan, the speedster's green eyes flicked open.

Dick's face lit up, and he was surprised to find fresh tears threatening to spill over. He blinked them back, a wide grin splitting his face. He wrapped his arms tightly around his best friend, relieved beyond words for him to be _moving, _to be _awake. _"Wally!" he whispered. It wasn't loud, but it contained all of the emotions that had been bottled up inside the past few days.

"Dick…" Wally groaned. "Can't…breathe…"

Dick loosened his grip, beaming up at his best friend. "You're okay!" he said unnecessarily.

"'Course I am," Wally grinned. "What, you think I'd let a little thing like being hit by a car stop me? What kind of friend would I be then?"

Dick's grin widened, euphoria making him feel almost weightless. "We thought – everyone was so worried – I didn't-" he began, stumbling over his words until they were so jumbled up no one could make sense of them.

Wally reached up and ruffled Dick's hair, interrupting him. He knew exactly what his best friend had been afraid of; that he was going to leave him. "Relax," he said reassuringly, arms wrapping around Dick's small frame. "I wouldn't leave my little brother."

* * *

**A/N **And there is your update. ^^ I'm going to try and have the next chapter up soon, but no promises. School is starting soon, and I'm not sure how much time I'll have to write. I'll still be updating...it just won't be as frequently. Sorry.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	28. Kids II

**A/N **Well, I failed at updating. ...Sorry about that, guys. I've been really busy, and I had a really hard time writing this chapter. But, as promised, this update is all about five-year-old Dick with Bruce. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer **If I owned Young Justice, there would already be another new episode out. Just sayin'.

~Aiva

* * *

Something always had to go wrong, didn't it? Bruce supposed it could be worse; his son was whole and mainly unharmed, at least. Just a minor scratch on his arm that required nothing more than a band-aid. That wasn't the biggest issue though; what stood out the most was the fact that his son was now five. Dick had fallen asleep on the way back to the Batcave, the small boy exhausted by the patrol and his encounter with Poison Ivy's spores. He was now curled up in Bruce's arms, refusing to let go even in his sleep. Bruce looked helplessly at Alfred, unable to even change out of his uniform now.

Alfred was clearly trying to hide a smile at the vigilante's predicament, a glint of amusement clear in his eyes. He reached for Dick, carefully prying the child away from Bruce. Dick let out a small mumble before curling up next to the butler, wrapping his small arms around Alfred's neck. Bruce flashed Alfred a grateful look before quickly changing. Dick stirred then, blue eyes blinking open. He glanced around slowly, a small yawn slipping out. "Bwuce," he murmured, voice slurring with sleep as he reached out to his adoptive father.

Bruce couldn't help the small smile that formed on his face as he accepted the boy back into his arms, rubbing his back soothingly. Dick yawned again, clearly fighting hard to stay awake. "Shh, Dickie," he hushed softly. "Go back to sleep."

Dick shook his head stubbornly, dark hair flopping in front of his sleepy eyes. "Not tired," he insisted stubbornly, blinking hard to keep his eyes open. He pulled his head away from Bruce's chest as if to prove how awake he was, glancing up at the man. "See?"

"Dick, you need to go to sleep," Bruce insisted, voice still as gentle as he could manage.

Dick pouted, attempting to scowl. It ended up looking far more adorable than frightening, his face still soft from sleep. "Not tired!" he repeated, with a bit more force.

Bruce raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Let's at least change you into some pajamas, okay? You don't have to go to sleep yet," he suggested.

Dick hesitated, considering the offer before nodding. "'Kay," he agreed softly, obviously sleepy, but still trying to fight it. It was adorable, honestly. Most of his costume was far too big for him, only his tunic clinging onto him, though it now went past his knees. His mask had already fallen off, and his cape was wrapped around him as a makeshift blanket. His dark hair was messier than usual, the scruffy dark locks hanging in front of his big blue eyes, and his small lips were still drawn into a slight pout as he fought to stay awake and somewhat alert.

Alfred produced a pair of pajamas that happened to be the right size and handed them to Bruce. Having been informed of the situation beforehand, the butler had just enough time to run out and get the essentials before their return. Dick attempted to dress himself, managing to pull on the pants and the shirt, but his tiny fingers fumbled with the buttons. Noticing Bruce reaching out to help, he moved away. "I can do it!" he insisted. He did most of them, but got stuck again at the top few. Dick pouted, but finally allowed Bruce to help.

Finally dressed, Dick extended his arms, clearly gesturing for Bruce to pick him up. With a smile, the billionaire complied, cradling the tiny boy in an affectionate way that almost nobody else ever saw. Dick let out a small, contented sigh, snuggling into his adoptive father's embrace.

"I'm not-" he started, a yawn interrupting him, "tired," he finished sleepily, blinking to keep his eyes open.

A large grin threatened to break out on Bruce's face as he rubbed the boy's small back, the soothing motion rewarded by a contented purr-like noise from Dick as he buried his face in Bruce's shirt. The billionaire made his way up to Dick's room, and attempted to tuck the kid into bed. "No…" Dick mumbled, now half-asleep. He clung to Bruce stubbornly though, refusing to let go. "Wanna stay wif you."

Dick had pretty much grown out of the habit of sleeping with Bruce, only doing it after a particularly bad nightmare or traumatic experience. He was determined to do it now though, and Bruce wasn't willing to argue. "Go back to sleep, Dickie," he hushed. Dick mumbled something, his eyes drifting back shut again.

Bruce ended up with Dick curled literally on top of him, small hands still clutching his shirt in a firm grasp. His tiny pink lips were parted slightly, soft snores escaping them every now and then. Bruce wrapped a strong arm around his son, maintaining the protective gesture even when he was asleep himself.

* * *

Sunlight peeked through the bottom of the curtains, casting the room in shadows. Bruce stirred, navy eyes blinking open. A small smile formed as yesterday's events came back and Dick let out a small yawn.

His baby blue eyes were only half-open, glazed from sleep. He rubbed them with the palm of his hand, letting out another yawn. He offered his adoptive father a small, sleepy smile. "Morning, Bruce," he greeted. He made no move to get off of Bruce's chest, preferring to remain there and snuggle up against him still.

Bruce sat up carefully, one arm supporting Dick's tiny frame. A surprisingly loud growl suddenly pierced the quiet morning atmosphere, and Dick's cheeks flushed a gentle pink as his blue eyes peered up at his guardian. "I'm hungry," he announced, one hand moving to his stomach.

"I'm sure Alfred has something cooked up," Bruce chuckled, still holding Dick as he stood.

"I want _you _to make it," Dick added, lips suddenly forming an irresistible pout. "Please?"

Bruce hesitated. He did _not _need a repeat of what happened the last time he had been allowed to actually cook. "What do you want?" he asked cautiously. He could probably manage a bit of toast, right? He hoped it would be something easy.

Dick frowned, brow furrowing as he thought. "Cereal!" he answered brightly, pleased at having come to an answer. "Please, Daddy?"

Bruce tensed, surprise flickering in his eyes; not about the cereal. He could handle _cereal; _there was no way he was setting _that _on fire. No, it was the last word that caught his attention: Daddy. Dick never called him Daddy, unless he was drugged or seriously injured. It wasn't that he didn't think of the billionaire as a father; it was just that the memories of his birth father were far too prominent to be able to call someone else that. Dick just called him Bruce, even though the father-son bond between them was obvious.

Being reverted back to a child, apparently, allowed Dick to think differently. Because honestly, kids were pretty much made up of emotion. In this state, Dick wasn't afraid to call Bruce daddy. And Bruce didn't mind one bit. He wanted his son back to his normal age, of course, but…being called Daddy had filled his heart with warmth and an even stronger paternal instinct.

"Daddy?"

Dick's curious voice interrupted Bruce's thoughts. "Hmmm?" Bruce responded, turning his attention back to his son.

"…Will you get me cereal?" Dick asked, trademark puppy-dog eyes starting to form. Those things were effective at thirteen, but at five? It took everything Bruce had not to melt into a pile of mush.

"Of course, Dickie-bird," Bruce smiled, adjusting his grip on Dick as he walked down the stairs.

Dick nuzzled his face into Bruce's shoulder. "…Are you going to go to work today?" he asked hesitantly.

"I have to, chum. You can stay with Alfred, okay?"

Sudden tears welled up in Dick's eyes, and he sniffled. "But…I don't want you to go," he whispered sadly. "I'll miss you."

Bruce hesitated, immediately feeling guilty. "I can move those meetings to another day, sir," Alfred spoke up, seeming to appear out of thin air.

Dick's face lit up at the thought, a smile replacing the tears that had threatened to fall. Bruce nodded gratefully at the butler. "Thank you, Alfred," he sighed in relief. He didn't want to have to face a crying five-year-old.

"Morning, Alfred!" Dick chirped cheerfully.

"Good morning, Master Dick. Would you like breakfast?"

"No thank you," Dick refused politely (which only made him sound more adorable), "Bruce is going to make me cereal!"

Alfred raised an eyebrow, glancing at Bruce.

"Just cereal, Alfred," Bruce assured. "I doubt I can set that on fire."

Alfred looked a bit skeptical, though it wasn't obvious. "Well, I suppose we'll find out, won't we?" he responded before walking off, probably to clean some part of the Manor.

Bruce stared after him. "I can't burn _cereal," _he muttered, though the butler could no longer hear him.

Dick giggled, his laughter pure and innocent. "Can we have toast, too?" he asked hopefully.

Bruce was determined to prove Alfred wrong; he could handle cereal, and he could handle toast as well. He wasn't going to burn anything this time. He walked into the kitchen and set Dick down on a counter; the boy perched there happily, feet swinging in the air. Bruce decided to make the toast first, slipping the bread into the toaster before pulling out a box of cereal.

"After this we can play!" Dick said excitedly. "We can play tag, and build with blocks, and watch tv, and climb on the dinosaur, and play hide-and-seek, and-"

"Let's just stick with eating breakfast for now," Bruce suggested, amusement clear as he tousled Dick's dark hair. He beamed, then his nose crinkled. "Bruce, why does it smell like smoke?" he asked curiously.

Bruce's eyes widened and he turned to the toaster. Sure enough, thin tendrils of dark smoke were rising from the appliance. Bruce hastily turned it off and pulled out the blackened pieces of bread. "At least it isn't on fire," Dick offered, staring at the "toast" with wide eyes.

Bruce shook his head slowly; sometimes, he was sure Alfred was psychic.

* * *

He made cereal without any problem, and Dick ate quickly, eager to be done and officially start the day. He shoveled a few more Cheerios into his mouth before tugging on Bruce's sleeve. "Can we play now?" he asked hopefully.

Bruce nodded, and Dick giggled, tapping him lightly on the leg. "You're it!" he cried, delighted laughter filling the air as he ran off.

Bruce chuckled, standing up and racing off after the small boy.

Three long hallways and a staircase later, Bruce finally caught up to Dick; for someone with such short legs, he sure could run fast when he wanted to. Bruce scooped him up, Dick laughing as he was hoisted into the air. "You caught me," he giggled.

Bruce grinned. "Do you know what happens to people who get caught?" he asked.

Dick shook his head, giggles increasing as his eyes widened.

"They get a visit…from the tickle-monster!" Bruce roared, immediately launching into a full-out tickle attack.

"No!" Dick shrieked, laughing as his sides were mercilessly tickled, followed by his legs and feet. "Stop, it tickles!" He struggled to get away, finally tapping Bruce on the nose. "There," he giggled. "Now you're off."

"That's not my off button," Bruce argued, a smile still clear on his face.

Dick cocked his head. "It isn't?" he frowned, confused. His eyes widened as Bruce advanced.

"Nope," Bruce said, shaking his head.

"Then what button was it?"

"It wasn't a button."

"It has to be a button!" Dick explained. "That's part of tickle-monster!"

"Well, then it was a mute button."

"Why are you talking then?" Dick giggled.

Bruce grinned in response, launching into a now silent tickle attack.

* * *

Two more games of tag, three games of hide-and-seek, a quick lunch, and one Lego tower later, Dick was worn out. Halfway through the cartoon that had been on, he had fallen asleep, head in Bruce's lap and a Batman plushie clutched adorably to his chest.

Things were pretty peaceful for about an hour; by that time, Bruce had changed the channel to National Geographic. If he was going to watch something, it wasn't going to be a brightly colored kids' cartoon. Dick's breath suddenly caught in his throat, eyes flitting back and forth underneath his eyelids. _"No," _he mumbled. _"Don't go. Please, you'll die. No, Mommy, Daddy! You're going to fall! NO! No, don't send me back, I'm sorry. I tried to stop them…Mommy, Daddy!" _

Bruce knew enough Romani to understand what Dick was saying, and tensed immediately. It was another nightmare about his parents. "Dick, wake up," he tried, placing a firm hand on the boy's shaking back. "It's just a dream, Dickie. Wake up," he repeated.

Dick merely tossed and turned, locked firmly inside of the horrible nightmare. Bruce wrapped comforting arms around his son immediately, forcing him to be still as gently as possible; it wasn't unusual for Dick to lash out, possibly injuring himself or others. _"No. I don't want to go back. I want Mommy and Daddy. Please, I'm sorry!" _Dick cried. Tears were coursing down his cheeks by this point, his face flushed and heartbroken.

Bruce felt his own heart breaking just having to watch Dick go through another one of these. Dick screamed, the sound painful and heart-wrenching, filled with far too much grief for anyone to have to bear. His tear-filled baby blue eyes shot open, harsh sobs shaking his body. He latched onto Bruce immediately, seeking any form of comfort right now.

Bruce ignored the wet spots that formed from Dick's tears, rubbing the small boy's back and rocking back and forth, offering as much comfort as he could. He didn't say that things would be alright, that they were okay now; because they weren't. All he could do was be there for him.

It took an hour for Dick to calm down enough to speak, his sobs turning into quieter sniffles. Sad eyes, tinted red from tears, looked up at Bruce, holding far too much pain to belong in such a young face. "Daddy," he whispered, voice hoarse and tear-choked.

"I'm right here, Dickie," Bruce murmured.

"They d-died," Dick sniffled, fresh tears dripping down his cheeks. "They f-fell, and I c-couldn't d-do anything."

"It's not your fault, Dick, I promise," Bruce said.

"B-but y-you said it w-was. You s-said you were g-going to send m-me b-back. To th-the orphanage," Dick explained, the grief growing in his big blue eyes. "Y-you were going to s-send me b-back because I l-let them fall."

"Dick, I will _never _send you back," Bruce promised without hesitation. "I will never willingly leave you, ever."

"P-promise?" Dick sniffled.

"Promise," Bruce nodded, pulling the little bird closer into his embrace.

Alfred cleared his throat then, announcing his presence. He carried a tray in his hands, two cups on it. "Master Dick, I brought hot chocolate," the butler said. Hot chocolate was part of the ritual, just like Bruce's promise. Dick offered a watery smile. "Thanks, Alfred," he said softly, accepting a cup. He blew on the creamy liquid to cool it off before sipping it, snuggling back into Bruce's chest.

* * *

After the nightmare, Dick refused to go back to sleep. Instead, he resumed the Lego tower he had started with Bruce, ending up building something that resembled Gotham. "Look, Daddy! I built Gotham," he explained excitedly, pointing at the colorful plastic blocks.

"Good job, Dickie," Bruce praised, ruffling the boy's dark hair.

Dick beamed with satisfaction, blue eyes lighting up as he turned back to the structure, adding more blocks to the building representing Wayne Tech.

"I was only able to move the meetings back a day, sir," Alfred said quietly behind Bruce. Dick, engrossed in his work, didn't pay attention.

Bruce nodded, glancing at his son. He couldn't just leave him at the Manor; Dick had already shown that he didn't want to leave Bruce's side, even to stay with Alfred. Maybe if he had one of his friends babysit him though, he would be distracted enough that Bruce could leave. The solution was obvious; Roy. Though the teenager was rebellious and…well, Roy, he had proven himself to be trustworthy multiple times. Besides, he was practically an older brother to Dick. He made a mental note to call the archer later.

Why did he already have the feeling that something was going to go wrong?

* * *

**A/N **...Not exactly sure how this turned out; as I said before, I had a hard time writing this chapter. I practically had to force myself to write this...I hope it wasn't too terrible though.

Anyway, I'm really, really close to 500 reviews; if we could get there before the next update, that would be amazing. :D I'm also open to suggestions again; it can be as simple as one word, really. I do have some ideas, but I don't have much inspiration for any of them right now. So...ideas anyone?

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	29. Call Me Bruce

**A/N **A short little chapter that I wrote in about twenty minutes; full of DaddyBats fluff. ^^

This takes place only a few days after Dick arrives at the manor, so he still isn't completely comfortable with Bruce. This is also his first nightmare while at the manor...which is where the DaddyBats comes in.

**Disclaimer** Me owning Young Justice is like Batman wearing pink; it doesn't work.

~Aiva

* * *

It started like always, spotlights dancing around the circus tent before settling on the next act; the Flying Graysons. Though Dick was not allowed to perform with them yet, he stood on the platform, his father tousling his hair playfully before going on. "For good luck," he'd always say. Ignoring the nervous flutter in his stomach, Dick beamed up at his parents.

They leapt into the air, swinging gracefully from the trapeze.

They twisted and turned, flipping through the air with ease. Mary even managed to give her son a small wave.

The nervous feeling suddenly grew, and Dick glanced up at the wires, blue eyes widening when he saw them about to break. His mouth opened to shout a warning, but it was too late.

_Snap!_

His parents were falling, almost identical expressions of horror on their faces.

_Thud!_

They hit the unforgiving ground, blood pooling underneath their broken bodies immediately. Dick's cry of warning turned into a scream of pain as his heart shattered, right along with his parents. "Mami! Tati!" They were dead, gone. The Flying Graysons would never fly again.

* * *

Dick was still screaming when he woke up. He forced himself to stop, muffling his harsh sobs in his pillow. Back at the juvenile center, the other boys would make fun of him for the nightmares; Dick wasn't sure how Mr. Wayne would react, and didn't really want to find out. Heart aching, he clutched his stuffed elephant to his chest, hoping to find some comfort in the familiar childhood toy. It did nothing to ease the ache, and Dick's sobs increased in volume as the sound of snapping wires echoed through his head. It hurt so bad; he just wanted it to stop. He wanted to wake up and see his mom making breakfast, Daddy trying to steal a little whenever she wasn't looking. He wanted to hear them laugh, he wanted to feel their heartbeats as they hugged him tight.

Dick curled into a tight ball under his covers, whispering broken apologies in Romani. He should've done something; he should've stopped them, or warned them sooner. It was his fault they were gone. They large, empty room only made it worse, reminding him of how alone he really was.

Mr. Wayne burst into the room, a worried, almost panicked look on his face. Dick didn't notice, making himself as small as possible under the covers as he continued to sob, heartbroken cries that would make even the most coldhearted feel sympathy. The billionaire hesitated a moment before moving closer, wrapping strong arms around the trembling boy.

Dick instinctively moved closer, small arms hugging Mr. Wayne's neck. He was desperate for comfort, just wanting the pain to go away. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, Mr. Wayne not bothering to tell him that things would be okay; both knew that wasn't true, and it would do nothing to help.

Dick finally calmed down enough that he could pull away. He avoided looking directly at the man, wiping a few tears off of his pale cheeks. "Sorry, Mr. Wayne," he whispered in a broken voice.

"Don't be," Mr. Wayne said, his tone and expression surprisingly gentle. There was a heavy silence before he let out a small sigh. "…I lost my parents too, just like you did."

Dick's eyes met his for a moment, surprise and understanding filling their cerulean depths. "You had to watch?" he asked in a quiet voice. Mr. Wayne nodded, and Dick bit his lip. "Does….does it ever stop hurting?" he asked hesitantly.

Mr. Wayne slowly shook his head. "I wish I could say yes. It always hurts; you keep thinking, 'if only I had done something differently…if only I could have warned them.'"

Dick's face was solemn, his blue eyes growing more and more pained with each word. Mr. Wayne suddenly pulled him back into another hug, this one shorter, though no less comforting. "But it will get better in time, Richard. For you. That I promise," he continued.

Dick nodded, glancing back up at the billionaire. "Thanks, Mr. Wayne," he mumbled.

"Call me Bruce."

"Then you call me Dick."

Mr. Wayne – Bruce, nodded, offering the boy a small smile. He tousled his dark hair lightly as he stood. "Night, Dick," he said softly.

"Night…Bruce," Dick responded, eyes already drifted shut, exhaustion clear on his face. Still holding his stuffed animal tightly to his chest, his breaths evened out as he fell into a light slumber.

Bruce stood in the doorway for a moment longer before leaving, lost in thought. At first, he hadn't been sure this was the best thing for Dick; he was rarely home, after all, and Bruce knew from experience how lonely the manor could be. But now he was sure;

Somehow, things would work out.

* * *

**A/N **Yeah, it's short. And probably not my best work either. But, hey, at least I didn't take as long to update, right? ;)

Anyway...I'm so close to 500 reviews guys; I've actually been excited about that for the past few days. Who wants to help me get there? :D

Oh, and I did have an almost direct quote in there...anyone who can point it out and tell me where it's from gets an invisible cookie.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	30. 30 Days

**A/N **So, in honor of the fact that I have reached 30 chapters, I am taking up the 30 day prompt thingy. It won't exactly be 1 a day; I'm going to try to post 6 at a time, actually, and the updates probably won't be regular. I'll try though. ;) So, here are the first six!

Quick explanation for them...

Number 1 takes place not too long after Robin meets Kid Flash, so Robin is...11? I think that's right...

Number 2 takes place when Dick is twelve; at this point, they've been friends for a while now.

Number 3 can take place whenever, really. I'll just say it takes place when Dick is 13, Wally is 15, and Roy is 18; it happens before the first season though.

Number 5 is the same as number 3; Wally is 15 and Dick is 13.

Numbers 4 and 6 have the ages mentioned, so I'm not going to list those. ;) Anyway, hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer **Only...what? Around three weeks until a new Yound Justice episode? Yeah, I didn't create it.

~Aiva

* * *

**1. Beginning**

Robin ignored the doubts still nagging his mind. He felt bad about the fact that he was going behind Batman's back like this, but he had been best friends with Wally for a while now; he knew he could trust the speedster. Besides, Wally deserved to know exactly who he was.

He glanced over at his best friend, who was also in costume. "KF, if I tell you something, you won't tell _anyone, _right?" he asked.

Kid Flash nodded immediately. "You can trust me," he assured, grinning easily at the younger vigilante. His eyes widened as Robin hesitated, then pulled off his mask, revealing clear blue eyes.

"Whoa," Kid breathed, before a grin formed on his face. "Batman is letting you tell me?!" he asked, excited.

Robin shook his head. "He doesn't really know I'm telling you," he admitted. "So don't say anything, okay?"

Kid Flash's eyes widened further, and he nodded.

Robin grinned this time. "In that case, Wally, meet Richard Grayson. You can call me Dick, though."

Kid Flash's grin returned. "Nice to meet you, Dick," he responded, pulling down his own cowl to reveal familiar freckles. There was a few seconds of silence before the two started laughing. "This is so cool," the speedster commented. When he was first introduced to Robin – Dick – he already had the feeling that it was the start of a beautiful friendship. This was just another beginning.

* * *

**2. Accusation**

Dick clutched his leg, blinking back the tears that sprung unbidden to his eyes. "Wally," he panted, a grimace twisting his features as fiery pain coursed through his body. "You're…an idiot."

"Are you okay?" Wally asked, worried green eyes focused firmly on his best friend.

"Does it…_look…_like I'm…okay?" Dick asked, honestly trying not to scream. "I'm…pretty sure…it's at least…fractured."

"Crap," Wally muttered, reaching for his cell phone. "Right, I'll call Bruce and then 911…or do you want me to call 911 and then Bruce?"

"Bruce first," Dick responded, gritting his teeth. "Make sure…to tell him…it was your fault."

"Hey, you didn't have to do it! This is so not on me!" Wally argued, even as he pressed the numbers into the keypad.

"You…came up with…the idea," Dick panted, blue eyes glaring at the speedster.

"Yeah, but you went along with it! It's not like I _pushed _you off the roof!"

"Yes, you did!"

"Oh yeah…well, you should've landed better!"

"Wally, shut up…and call Bruce," Dick said after a moment, face growing steadily paler.

Wally heard Bruce pick up the phone then, and the speedster blurted out the first thing that came into his mind. "No matter what Dick says, it's _not_ my fault!"

* * *

**3. Restless**

Wally always felt the need to move. He wanted to run, to feel the wind tug at his hair as his feet pounded against the ground. It came from being a speedster; everything always moved so slowly. Running was one of the few times when he felt like he actually belonged in the universe. Watching the world speed by, blurring into patterns and shapes only he could make out…it gave him a sense of elation that was difficult to describe. It allowed him to escape the troubles of his life for a moment, and be free.

Of course, all of that meant he had an incredibly short attention span. Letting out a huff, Wally sank into his seat, bored beyond words. "Are we there yet?" he asked, groaning as he spoke.

"No," Roy and Dick answered simultaneously. Bruce and Barry were away on some League mission, and Ollie was at some event. The teenagers had managed to convince their guardians it was perfectly fine to have them stay together at Roy's apartment. Truthfully, things had been pretty boring up until this point. In fact, things still _were _boring; the most exciting thing so far was their decision to hit a random pizza place for lunch. Which is why they were in a car now.

A few seconds passed before Wally spoke up again. "Are we there _now?" _he asked.

"You asked me that five seconds ago," Roy pointed out, resisting the urge to slam his head into the steering wheel.

"Really? Feels longer than that," Wally said. "It's not my fault-"

"You have the attention span of a squirrel?" Dick put in, grinning.

"I do _not _have the attention sp – hey look! Pizza!" Wally said, green eyes locking on the pizza place instantly.

Roy rolled his eyes as Dick laughed. "Attention span of a squirrel," Dick repeated, dodging easily as the speedster attempted to smack him.

"More like a goldfish," Roy grumbled as the two started to wrestle in the back seat.

"Roy!" Wally cried indignantly. "I have a way bigger attention span than that!"

"Sure you do," the archer agreed sarcastically.

"I'm just-" Wally started.

"Impatient? Hyperactive? Unfocused?" Dick suggested.

"I was going for something more like restless," Wally grumbled. He brightened as he looked out the window again. "Hey look! A squirrel!"

* * *

**4. Snowflake**

Dick glanced out the window, blue eyes widening in excitement. It was _snowing! _The white flakes were drifting lazily down; though they hadn't started to stick yet, that didn't change the fact that it was snow. Back in the circus, Dick hadn't seen snow very often; this was exciting to the young boy. The nine-year-old leapt out of bed, ignoring how cold the floor was against his bare feet. He raced down the hall, dashing into Bruce's room and leaping onto the bed. "Bruce! Bruce!" he shouted. "It's snowing!" A wide grin forming on his face, he bounced up and down. "Can I go outside?"

Bruce groaned, opening one eye and glancing at the clock; 5:21 a.m. He had had a busy night last night, and was still exhausted from the numerous meetings and the difficult patrol. "Go put on a jacket and some shoes," he instructed, a yawn following the words. "I'll be up in a minute."

Dick was practically glowing with excitement as he nodded, racing out the door. He snagged his coat and some shoes on the way, throwing them on hastily before throwing the door open and running outside.

His breath formed small clouds every time he exhaled, and Dick giggled. He reached out, a snowflake falling into his hand and melting against his warm skin. Ignoring the cold, Dick stuck out his tongue and tried to catch as many as possible.

Bruce came out a little bit later, and Dick grabbed his hand, tugging him out into the yard. A very thin blanket of snow was already starting to cover the ground, and Dick took a handful, beaming up at his adoptive father. "Look, Bruce! It's snow!" he said, excited. He threw it in the air, laughing when it came back down, sticking to his dark hair. "Come catch snowflakes with me," he giggled, sticking out his tongue to get one.

Alfred glanced out the window, already moving to prepare the hot chocolate. Both of the boys had snow dusting their hair, and even Bruce was attempting to catch snowflakes as Dick raced around, doing the same. The butler let out a small chuckle as Dick threw a small handful of snow, initiating a "snowball" fight that lasted for fifteen minutes. When they came back inside, both were dripping and shivering. Dick's cheeks were pink from cold, and his blue eyes were shining with pleasure. He accepted the cup of hot chocolate, taking a sip before glancing back up at his adoptive father.

"Thanks for catching snowflakes with me," he said, beaming as he wrapped small arms around Bruce in a tight hug.

* * *

**5. Haze**

Everything was fuzzy, the landscape blurring into smears of colors. Robin struggled to blink the blackness from his eyes, but found himself unable to, instead wincing as a fresh wave of pain ripped through his skull. He was vaguely aware of someone calling out his name, but the sounds were muffled and dim, as if they were speaking through a pillow. "K…KF," he mumbled, his tongue feeling thick and useless as he struggled to form the simple abbreviation.

Strong arms scooped him up, and Robin spotted the distinct shock of red hair belonging to his friend. "Hang in there, Rob, I got ya," Kid Flash said, worry clear in his voice. The speedster let out a low whistle. "Some explosion, huh?" he added. Hearing no response, his feet sped up as he chose the quickest route to the nearest hospital. "Don't you dare fall asleep on me," he warned.

Robin knew he had a concussion, and most likely some internal bleeding as well. If he fell asleep, he might never wake up. But he was oh so tired, and it seemed nearly impossible to stay awake for much longer. He had faith that Kid Flash would get him to a hospital in time; with that thought in mind, the Boy Wonder allowed his eyes to drift shut, ignoring the speedster's concerned, urgent words.

Relaxing into the familiar embrace, his mind sank into a welcome haze.

* * *

**6. Flame**

Dick glanced up at Bruce, unsure whether he should be concerned or amused. The ten-year-old ended up hiding his giggles behind his hand as the billionaire aimed a fire extinguisher at the dancing flames. White foam soon covered a vast portion of the kitchen, and the smell of smoke was heavy in the air. Dick's nose crinkled in disgust as he cautiously poked the charred remains with a spatula. "I don't think we can eat that, Bruce," he pointed out. It was barely recognizable as food.

Bruce set the fire extinguisher down and stared at the mess helplessly; he didn't even know where to start. Letting out a heavy sigh, he opened a window in an attempt to get rid of some of the smoke. "Let's clean this up before Alfred gets back," he said, moving to where he hoped the cleaning supplies were. Of course, the British butler had to walk in then, a disapproving look in his eyes as he stared at Bruce.

Dick bounded up to him, flour and ash coating his grinning face. "Hi, Alfred!" he greeted cheerfully. "Bruce set the kitchen on fire again!"

* * *

**A/N **So here are the first six! I'll be writing the others whenever I can find the time...

A quick thank you for helping me to get past 500 reviews; I can't believe I have so many! :D You guys are awesome.


	31. 30 Days II

**A/N **And here are the next six! This time, I tried to mention the ages or specific events that would clue you in to how old the characters are. I only did it ones that matter; others can just be...anywhere, really.

**Disclaimer **Not too much longer until the new episode of Young Justice, guys! Unfortunately, I didn't write or own it.

* * *

**7. Formal**

Dick woke up with a gasp, glancing around. He relaxed when his blue eyes picked out the familiar details of Roy's apartment; he wasn't at a gala with Bruce, he was spending the night with his brothers. He let out an involuntary shiver as he remembered the specifics of his dream; something about the press turning into rabid animals and all of the ladies clinging onto Bruce attacking him with heavy purses and forks. The doors and windows had disappeared too, so he couldn't get out.

Roy had woken up when he felt Dick move, and he raised a questioning eyebrow as he glanced at the younger teenager. "Nightmare?" he asked.

Dick met his gaze and nodded. "You know you've been to too many formal events when you start having nightmares about them," he offered as an explanation.

Roy stared at him for a moment before letting his head thump back against the couch cushion, eyes closing again. "I'm not going to ask," he mumbled.

* * *

**8. Companion**

To be honest, Dick didn't have many friends for a while after arriving at the Manor. The transition was difficult to make; he had been in the circus before, everyone there practically his family. He was like a nephew to most of them; there was a reason he called the League members "Uncle" and "Aunt", after all. They were his new circus family, in a way. After his parents' death, he wasn't able to stay at the circus. He was ripped away from two families that day, not just one.

He was grateful that Bruce had taken him in; without the man, Dick knew he never would've been able to deal with the grief and horror that came from losing every single person you love. But the Manor was always so empty. Bruce wasn't exactly there all the time, and he couldn't have conversations with just Alfred forever.

Basically, the boy needed a friend.

Bruce was aware of this, and frowned as he considered the option Barry had suggested. He wasn't exactly sure he wanted his ward's friend to be a _Flash, _of all people. But an introduction such as this would work well, and it was obvious Dick was getting a bit lonely.

Dick had no idea of this when he arrived at the Watchtower. He often tagged along with Bruce, well, Batman. He would hang out with League members (he absolutely loved to talk to Superman) during some meetings, and Batman let him join in others. The League offered one opportunity to talk to new people, but it wasn't like they were his age…they were all adults, and Dick was only nine.

So needless to say, Dick was surprised when he saw an eleven-year-old standing by Flash's side. The speedster (he assumed) was dressed in yellow and red, the colors bright and cheerful. A shock of fiery hair stood out prominently, and curious green eyes stared back at Dick. A wide grin formed on the kid's face. "Hi, I'm Kid Flash," he greeted cheerfully, sticking out his hand.

Dick shook his hand, cocking his head to the side before smiling back. "I'm Robin," he responded, smile widening into a grin. "Nice to meet you, KF."

"KF?"

"It's short for Kid Flash," Dick explained.

Wally's grin was nearly blinding. "I like it…Rob."

Both boys laughed, pleased with the nicknames and the obvious bond already forming. It took only a few seconds more for Kid Flash to take Dick's hand, dragging him away and talking animatedly about something or another. Dick listened, offering commentary here and there. A few minutes later, Kid Flash looked back down at Dick. "Dude, we are so going to be best friends forever," he commented, green eyes cheerful.

Dick grinned back. "I think we already are."

* * *

**9. Move**

Another graceful turn, his body flipping forward in a motion that looked so easy and natural it seemed like he was born to do it.

It was the rush of wind against his skin as he moved, flipping and twisting through the air. It was the feeling of weightlessness, that rush of joy that came from the knowledge that you were no longer on the ground. It was the defying of gravity, the tingle in his stomach as he leapt into free-fall, allowing himself to plummet before stopping, using the momentum to swing into another flip, another twist.

He truly was born to do it. He was meant to do this, simply letting go of his troubles. It was then he was poetry in motion, the troubles and concerns of the world washed away with the indescribable joy that filled his heart, mind, and soul for those precious seconds. It was then he was free.

It was then Dick Grayson could truly fly.

* * *

**10. Silver**

Dick stared at the Batcave, eyes wide. It was only his second time in, and it still awed the small boy. The dinosaur, the giant penny, the Batmobile parked neatly nearby….it was all so cool and amazing. Dick honestly wanted to go up to the Batcomputer and press every single button there, but decided that probably wasn't the smartest thing to do. Instead, he grinned up at Bruce, who stood slightly behind him.

"What do you think?" the billionaire asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's so cool!" Dick exclaimed, practically bouncing up and down in excitement. A slight frown suddenly creased his face. "But…it's too…silver. It needs more color," he decided. "Like red, and yellow, and green." Seeing Bruce's expression, he back-tracked quickly. "It's still really, really cool!" he added hastily.

Bruce chuckled, walking towards the advanced computers. "Maybe I should just let you paint it," he suggested.

Dick beamed, agreeing whole-heartedly. "It would look so much…happier!" he decided. "I could paint a bunch of different colors! All of them…well, except black. And silver."

* * *

**11. Prepared**

"You know, I used to think Dick was weird for carrying stuff around in his belt all the time. You've brought it to a whole new level," Roy commented, staring at the growing pile of junk. Who knew the kid had so many pockets?

"Hey, this is _not _weird!" Wally argued, sorting through the stuff carefully. He set aside a comb, an I-Pod, a tissue, assorted coins and dollar bills, and a pen decorated with tiny Flash symbols. Those objects weren't exactly weird, but the rest of it was; a wad of sticky, melted candy that had been squished together until the original ingredients were unrecognizable, a large magnet, three batteries of varying sizes, a tiny Aquaman bobble-head, and a stray left glove that was missing a finger and had a hole in it. There were also multiple candy bars, empty wrappers, and a stray cotton ball with a toothpick stuck in it. And that was just _some _of the stuff.

"It's a bit strange, Wally," Dick agreed, currently doing a handstand on the back of the couch. "At least the stuff I keep in my belt makes sense."

"Oh yeah? When will you ever need that "Happy Birthday!" balloon?" Wally countered.

"If I needed to lift something light into the air and couldn't find anything else," Dick answered immediately with a shrug.

"Where would you get the helium?" Roy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dick smirked and patted his waist as a response. No one bothered questioning him further. "But when will you need that Aquaman bobble-head?" Dick asked, continuing the conversation. "Why do you even have that?"

"I could need it one day!" Wally insisted.

"Like when?" Dick asked.

"I dunno. …But it could happen!"

"Uh huh. Sure it could," Roy said sarcastically.

"Still seems pretty weird to me," Dick shrugged in agreement.

"It isn't _weird!_ I'm being prepared!"

* * *

**12. Knowledge**

The concept of death was familiar to every hero. They took up the vigilante mask well aware of the risks that came with it; most of them had been close to death at least once or twice. Dick was especially aware of that fact. Death was something that could strike fast and hard, with little warning. He had learned it when he was only eight, as he watched his parents fall, their bodies crumpling lifelessly against the unforgiving ground.

That didn't mean it wasn't scary. Generally, heroes didn't _try _to die; the dangerous situations tended to just happen. All they did was deal with them, despite the dangers. It wasn't like they looked for trouble or anything. However, any hero would willingly give his life for someone else.

That was what made them heroes. They were willing to do the right thing, even at the ultimate cost. Because _someone _had to be willing to do that, or risk letting evil consume…everything, really. That burden was heavy though, weighing down on their shoulders. Maybe that was why so many heroes wore such bright, cheerful colors; it served as another mask, hiding that weight from the rest of the world.

The knowledge was like a hard stone in their hearts, but it was something they learned to live with. They would never let it consume them; heroes had to remain strong. But it was those days when they just couldn't do everything that affected them. It was the days when maybe a hero wasn't enough; lives were still lost, and there wasn't anything anyone could do.

It was then that that knowledge hurt.

* * *

**A/N **I'm a bit disappointed; I only got about half as many reviews as I normally do (give or take a few). So, I'm challenging everyone who reads this to review. ^^ Leave a suggestion if you have one, too; I'll pick a few and write them after I finish these 30 prompts.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	32. 30 Days III

**A/N **Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for it to take this long to update; I was trying to finish Fugitive, I had a ton of work to do, and I started to get writers' block. 2 weeks...I feel horrible.

I'm almost done with these challenges; the next update should cover the rest, and then we can get back to the normal stories, I promise.

Oh, and there is a spoiler for "Satisfaction" in one of these.

**Disclaimer **I don't own.

~Aiva

* * *

**13. Denial**

Wally stared at Artemis, a slightly dreamy expression flitting across his face. Robin covered his mouth to hide a snicker; it was painfully obvious the two liked each other. The funny part was when they tried to deny it. "Dude, you're drooling," Robin finally broke in, unable to completely hide his laughter.

Wally's face flushed a bright cherry red, and he whirled to face his best friend. "Shut up, Rob," he grumbled, one hand swiping across his chin just in case.

Artemis walked out of the room, and Robin raised an eyebrow. "So…when are you going to admit you like her?"

"I don't like her!" Wally shouted immediately, his cheeks flushing an even more vibrant shade of crimson.

Robin rolled his eyes, though it wasn't really visible behind the domino mask. "Explain why you were staring then," he said, smirking.

"I wasn't staring!" Wally insisted. "I don't like Artemis, or her stupid arrows, or her stupid hair, or…or her gray eyes…or…"

Robin's smirk widened into a grin. "You know, Wally, denial isn't just a river in Egypt." With that, the Boy Wonder disappeared into the shadows, familiar cackles filling the air.

Wally sputtered for a moment before sending a glare at where he hoped the acrobat was. "ROBIN! I'm _not _in denial!"

* * *

**14. Wind**

Robin attempted to glare as a strong gust of wind tugged annoyingly at his hair and cape. Considering he was attempting to glare at the _wind, _however, it didn't work too well. Robin's mind stopped focusing on the persistent breeze when a small, tear-choked voice cut through the air. White lenses of his domino mask narrowing, Robin used his grappling hook, swinging over to the source of the sound.

He expected to see a kid in trouble, or something like that; this was _Gotham_, after all. Instead, there was a little girl (five at most) crying as a red balloon drifted higher into the cloudy sky. Robin internally groaned and facepalmed as the little girl raced up to him, sniffling as big tears rolled down her cheeks. "Robin," she said softly, still sobbing, "You're a hero, right?"

Robin nodded, trying not to groan as she continued. He should've met Batman at the docks by now…Bats was going to kill him for being late. He seriously didn't have time to deal with this, no matter how bad the tears and big brown eyes made him feel.

"Can you get my balloon back?" she asked hopefully.

Robin hesitated before regretfully shaking his head. "Sorry," he apologized. "But it's too high up by now."

The girl's face fell, and her shoulders started to shake with quiet sobs again. Robin bit his lip; was this how people felt when he gave them the puppy dog eyes? He hastily pulled a balloon and a small canister of helium out of his utility belt, blowing up the gray balloon quickly; it bobbed in the air, yellow Batsignal resembling…the same signal shining in the sky right now. _Crap, _Robin thought. Batman was _really _going to kill him now.

The girl's eyes lit up as she saw the balloon, and she smiled as Robin handed it to her. She wrapped her arms around his leg in a tight hug, beaming up at him. "Thanks, Robin!" she exclaimed cheerfully. "You're the best _ever!" _She then ran off without giving him a chance to respond.

Robin was moving towards the docks when his communicator buzzed; Batman was calling. _Crap, _he repeated mentally. "Stupid wind," he muttered as he answered.

* * *

**15. Order**

"Will you make up your mind already?!" the cashier snapped. The people in line mumbled their agreement, and Wally was tempted to stick his tongue out. He whirled around as he heard a string of profanities. "HEY!" he shouted. "Watch the language! There are _children _around!"

"I'm thirteen!" Dick protested, crossing his arms as he let out a frustrated huff.

"Really? I thought he was, like, eleven or twelve," one lady whispered to her friend.

"I can hear you!" Dick said, miffed.

"It's okay to admit you're short," Wally assured, grinning teasingly.

"I'm not short! I'm just…fun-sized."

There was laughter in the long line behind the two before someone spoke up. "Will the ginger just order already?!"

"Fine!" Wally huffed. "I'd like three triple cheeseburgers, two grilled chicken sandwiches, five bacon cheeseburgers, three milkshakes, and an extra order of fries."

Dick facepalmed while everyone else stared in disbelief.

* * *

**16. Thanks**

Dick stared at the table, eyes wide. It seemed to carry far too much food for just three people; he had never seen so much in his life. Was it going to be like this every Thanksgiving?

When he was with his parents, all three would make dinner together. Dick would then run around and share with the other members of his circus 'family'; his parents had always mentioned how important it was to be nice and give to others, after all. Then he would go back to the trailer, and they would play games, just the three of them…

Dick blinked back sudden tears. This would be his first Thanksgiving without them. It had been almost eight months since they died, but it still hurt like it had happened yesterday sometimes. Dick found himself pulled into a tight hug as Bruce walked in the room. He buried his face in the man's shirt, grateful for the comfort. "It's alright, Dick," Bruce soothed.

It wasn't, really, but the hug still helped the young boy to feel better. Dick wiped his eyes, managing a small smile. "Thanks, Bruce," he whispered.

* * *

**17. Look**

Ollie's head dropped into his hands; he felt horrible. Well, actually, he didn't really know _how _to feel. Roy waking up brought back all of that guilt he had managed to ignore for the past eight years. Roy was right; how could he not have known? He had been so caught up in the fact that he had just found his son to realize that it wasn't actually him. And then he hadn't realized it for the next few years.

Common sense told him it wasn't really his fault; Roy (Red Arrow) had been given all of the original's memories. He looked _exactly _the same. There was no way he could've found out…that didn't stop him from feeling guilty. He had failed Roy first by letting him be taken by Lex Luthor, and then failed his clone by…well, it wasn't difficult to see how strained their relationship had become. For goodness' sake, Roy had looked like some sort of junkie! Now Roy (Speedy…this was getting confusing) was turning into some vigilante named Arsenal, and had nearly _killed _Lex Luthor.

Had…had he really been that bad of a father? He had failed both of his sons…multiple times. Maybe, looking back, he could've down more. No – he s_hould've _done more. If only he could go back in time and fix all of his mistakes, give Roy the father he deserved and needed.

Well, if there was one thing this whole mess had done, it was give Ollie a good look at himself.

* * *

**18. Summer**

Wally groaned, slouching further in his seat. He had only been in here for three minutes, and was already bored out of his mind. He absently doodled on a sheet of paper, emerald eyes distant and glazed over. Another two minutes and he was passed out on his desk, snoring lightly in a small puddle of drool.

He would've stayed like that for the rest of class if something small and fast hit the back of his head. Wally jerked upright, heart racing as he twisted his head, searching the room for the source. He relaxed fractionally when he noticed a stereotypical jock smirking as he prepared to launch another spitball.

Wally groaned as it made contact; it looked like the bullying would carry over into this year as well. …He missed summer already.

* * *

**19. Transformation**

"So…why do I have to learn this again?" Wally asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked at the costume trunk Dick had. Somehow, the speedster had been allowed in the Batcave (probably because Bruce was currently out of town).

Dick grinned, putting a blonde wig on his head. "Other than the fact that it's fun to mess with people's heads? You never know when you need a disguise for an undercover mission."

Wally shrugged, grabbing a thick white mustache and sticking it on his face. He grinned, turning to Dick. "How do I look?" he asked in a bad British accent.

"Stupid," Dick answered, laughing. It was true; Wally's fiery hair didn't go well with the mustache…really, it looked like a small animal had crawled onto his face.

Wally gave a mock scowl, sticking his tongue out at his best friend. "I bet you couldn't pull off a mustache either," he challenged.

Dick was back a minute later, bald and with a thick brown mustache on his face. Brown eyes, bushy eyebrows, and a janitor's uniform disguised him completely. Wally had to admit that if he didn't know it was his best friend, he wouldn't be able to tell it wasn't a real janitor…you know, in miniature. "What do you think?" he asked, voice slightly deeper and containing a rough edge.

Wally nodded slowly. "Impressive…but I bet I can do better," he grinned.

"Prove it," Dick scoffed, pulling off the bald cap. He pulled out an outfit and thrust it at the speedster. "Convince me you're not you."

Wally grabbed it, and was back in a matter of seconds (super speed really was useful). When Dick saw him, he burst out laughing, actually falling to the floor and clutching his stomach. Wally's face flushed a bright red to match his hair, and he crossed his arms self-consciously. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," he grumbled. "Just pick a different outfit already. There's no way I'm being…a _girl."_

Dick just laughed harder. Wally had a light green dress on that went scarily well with his long ginger curls and emerald eyes. The sparkly heels only added to the illusion that Wally was now a girl.

When Batman came back to the Batcave, he slowly shook his head. Wally was apparently dressed as a girl, shouting something incoherent as he chased Dick around the Batcave. Dick was merely cackling, turning his head to stick his tongue out at the speedster.

Batman simply turned around. He didn't want to know.

* * *

**20. Tremble**

Wally woke up with a start, a familiar brotherly instinct rising within him. He sat up, flicking on a lamp and turning to look at Dick (who had convinced Bruce to let him spend the night). He winced, heart aching, at the sight of his best friend.

Dick's blue eyes were haunted and grieved, their blue depths tainted red with tears. The salty drops flowed freely down his pale face, and his shoulders shook as he sobbed quietly. He was leaning against the wall, arms wrapped around his legs as if he was trying to shrink back from something.

Wally scooted closer immediately, green eyes shining with concern. "Nightmare?" he guessed, voice soft and careful. Dick nodded mutely, obviously having difficulty keeping the harsh sobs so quiet. "Shh, Dickie, I got you," Wally soothed, wrapping warm arms around the acrobat's trembling frame, pulling him into a comforting hug. "I've got you."**  
**

* * *

**A/N **Still feel bad...I'll try not to take so long to update again.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	33. 30 Days IV

**A/N **Finally, I've finished...which means I can get started on the normal one-shots again. ^^

**Disclaimer **I own some paper and a pencil...that doesn't mean I own Young Justice.

~Aiva

* * *

**21. Sunset**

Dick used to love watching the sunrise; he would wake up just in time to see the orange sun crest over the horizon. Whenever they had to practice early, his parents would often sit with him, occasionally eating breakfast as they woke up. It was one of those times Dick had always looked forward to, right after birthdays, Christmas, and practicing on the trapeze with them.

That all changed when they died. That day had been the worst of his life, and he had spent most of it dazed, in shock and aching so deeply he wondered how he'd be able to bear it another minute. He hadn't wanted to enjoy the start of another day; another day just meant more pain and heart-ache. It was that day he started enjoying watching the sunset, the gentle pinks and oranges that signaled the welcome darkness of sleep.

After all, why should he enjoy the day when his parents would never see another one?

* * *

**22. Mad**

Robin grinned, a laugh bubbling up in his throat. "C'mon, KF," he urged. "Don't tell me you're chicken."

Kid Flash's green eyes hardened, and he snatched the object out of the acrobat's hands instantly. "I'm _not _chicken!" he argued. "See?" With that, he stuck the light bulb in his mouth. Looking triumphant, he turned to his friend and attempted to pull it out, only to find it was stuck. Eyes wide, he pulled harder; it wasn't coming out. "Mmm mmph!" he complained loudly, sending an almost panicked look at friend.

Robin was on the ground at this point, gloved hands clutching his stomach as he laughed. "Dude, calm down. We'll get it out," he assured between laughs.

"Mmmmph!" Kid repeated, green eyes widening. Accepting that he wouldn't be able to pull it out himself, he chose the next best thing; getting revenge on the little bird that had told him to stick the light bulb in his mouth in the first place.

The white lenses of Robin's domino mask widened slightly as the angry redhead began chasing him around the room. "What – KF! Stay still and I'll get it out!"

When Red Arrow walked into the room a few minutes later, he was met by a rather interesting sight. Robin was cackling as Kid Flash chased him around the room, a light bulb sticking out of the latter's mouth. The archer stared for a second, then shook his head slowly. Noticing him, Kid Flash let out a garbled "mmm mmph!"

Robin skidded to a stop next to the older ginger, grinning up at him. "Hey, Red," he greeted.

"Do I even want to know what happened?" Red Arrow asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dodging Kid Flash, Robin simply shrugged. "Probably not," he said.

"You two are insane," the archer stated bluntly.

Robin shrugged again, grin widening. "Hey, we're all mad here."

* * *

**23. Thousand**

Roy studied the set-up, shaking his head slowly. "You guys know that there's a _thousand_ ways this can go wrong, right?"

Wally beamed. "That's the fun part!" he exclaimed, practically vibrating with excitement. Dick simply cackled, though a wide grin was also on his face. They slapped each other high fives, and raced off.

Roy wasn't all that surprised when he heard groans and shouted accusations a few minutes later. "Right," he sighed, reaching for his phone, "I'll call 911."

* * *

**24. Outside**

Dick let out a heavy sigh, not even bothering to pretend like he was paying attention; he could do half of these equations in his sleep. _Maybe I should test that, _he mused, tapping his pencil absently against his desk. After all, he was exhausted; last night had been spent chasing after Penguin _and _the Riddler. Dick hadn't gotten back home until after two in the morning, and then he couldn't seem to fall asleep. He had gotten maybe an hour and a half of rest at most, and the boring lecture he was being forced to endure didn't help anything.

His blue eyes flitted over to the window in hopes of finding something to keep him awake; the last time he had fallen asleep in class, his teacher had threatened to call Bruce. Of course, Bruce would understand, but then Dick would have to end patrol earlier than normal for the next week, and he did _not _want that to happen. Patrol was the only thing that made this monotonous routine bearable.

Outside, Gotham actually looked cheerful. The sky was actually clear for once, the light shade of blue practically inviting him to come outside. Gentle rays of sunlight bathed everything in a warm light, and unless Dick was hearing things (which might be entirely possible, considering how absolutely bored and exhausted he was) there were even birds chirping.

Dick groaned, slumping further into his seat; the lack of color and life in the classroom was almost painful now.

He wished he was outside.

* * *

**25. Winter**

Dick's blue eyes lit up as he noticed the snow outside, and he wasted no time in leaping off of the couch he had been sleeping on. Restless energy coursing through him, he flicked on the lights. Roy woke up on his own, letting out a soft moan as he forced his blue eyes open. "Whazz goin' on?" he slurred, stifling a yawn.

Dick had to resort to repeatedly poking Wally's cheek to get the speedster to wake up. Wally ended up jerking in surprise and dropping to the floor, green eyes wide and startled. "Don't touch my pancakes!" he shouted, before fully waking up.

Dick grinned, already in the process of pulling on his coat. "Guys, it's _snowing!" _he announced, excitement clear as he finished donning the warm garment. "Move it!"

Roy grumpily moved into a sitting position. "Why'd you wake us up?" he grumbled. "It's just some snow."

Dick frowned, blue eyes hardening. "Snow is _amazing _and you _will _have a snowball fight," he informed firmly. It was tradition that he have a snowball fight every winter. Just because he was spending the night at Roy's apartment rather than sleeping in the manor didn't mean he was going to change that.

Wally perked up immediately. "Snowball fight?" he repeated, much more cheerful. "Yes! Let's go!"

Roy muttered something incoherent under his breath, but dragged himself up off the couch anyway, pulling on his coat and some shoes before all three headed outside. He wasn't fully prepared for the icy slush that hit the back of his head and trickled down his neck, chilling his skin. He whirled around to see Dick already forming another snowball, cheeks already tinged pink as he laughed.

Dick dodged easily as Wally attempted to dump a handful of snow down his shirt, and smashed the snowball into the speedster's fiery hair instead. Dick laughed harder as Wally let out a startled yelp, hands moving to brush the cold snow off of his head.

He loved winter.

* * *

**26. Diamond**

Wally let out a relieved breath, accepting the ring gratefully. The silver circle gleamed while the diamond sparkled. He glanced up at his best friend. "Thanks, Dick," he muttered. "I owe you one."  
"No problem," Dick responded easily, grinning. "I still owe you from when I got stuck in the Empire State building, remember?"

Wally couldn't help but laugh, a matching grin spreading across his face. He slipped the ring into his pocket; simply put, as a college student with an insanely large appetite, he hadn't had the money necessary to buy the one thing that had been nagging him for months now.

An engagement ring.

He was planning to propose to Artemis tonight, as soon as she got back home. If all went as planned, they would be married not to long after that. Wally let out a slightly nervous breath that made Dick laugh. "Relax, Walls," the acrobat reminded. "She's not going to say no."

Dick's prediction came true twenty minutes later, when Artemis walked in the door. By that point, Dick had left and Wally was on his knees, holding out the diamond ring with a goofy grin. "Artemis Lian Crock, will you marry me?" he asked.

Artemis stood there for a second before her gray eyes lit up and she wrapped her arms around Wally's neck in a tight hug. "Yes," she answered, a breathless laugh following. "Of course."

* * *

**27. Letters**

Was it weird that Wally was writing letters to his supposedly dead girlfriend? Probably. Then again, the speedster had never really given much thought to what was weird and what wasn't. Wally had never even considered himself the letter type…he preferred modern technology to pen and paper. But he couldn't exactly text Artemis, wherever she was; it would be a dead-giveaway if the villains tracked the signal.

He wasn't exactly mailing the letters either. He didn't know her address after all (did ships run by villains even _have _addresses?). But that didn't stop him from writing something down every single night, even if it was as something as simple as an "I love you", or "I miss you".

Maybe he wrote letters because it was a way to reassure himself that Artemis wasn't dead. He wouldn't write letters to a dead person; even he would admit _that _was a bit weird. And Artemis needed something to catch her up on what had happened when she came back…that's why Wally wrote the letters.

He didn't care if she never got the messages. He slept a little better at night knowing he was doing something to keep her memory alive. She might not be there physically, but she was very much alive.

* * *

**28. Promise**

"B-Bruce," Dick whispered, the one word almost a whimper. He clutched his stuffed elephant tighter, tears blurring his vision as he searched for the billionaire. It didn't really surprise him when he didn't see Bruce anywhere. The eight-year-old bit his lip, burying his face in his toy; frankly, the manor scared him. It was huge, and at night the shadows seemed to jump out, threatening to grab him. He actually did whimper as he glanced around the empty hallway once more; where did he disappear to every night, anyway?

Deciding there was only one thing he could really do, Dick struggled to remember the way to Bruce's bedroom. He would wait there, at least; he just couldn't be alone. Every time he closed his eyes, he would see blood pooling across the floor from underneath broken bodies. Every time he opened them, however, the shadows would reach out towards him, stretching into menacing shapes that distorted his sense of reality and sent a thrill of fear through him. And no matter what he did, he couldn't help but hear the wire snap and them scream, over and over again.

Dick finally found the room and dashed inside, leaping onto the bed easily. Bruce wasn't in here yet…Dick turned on the lamp and clutched his elephant even tighter, sniffling as tears rolled down his cheeks. He sat there for hours, exhaustion weighing down his eyes but fear and grief keeping him awake. Finally, Bruce walked in, looking slightly surprised to see Dick curled up on his pillows. "Dick?" he whispered.

Dick's head shot up, an unmistakable expression of relief flitting across his face as he blinked back tears. "Sorry, Bruce," he mumbled. "I c-couldn't sleep."

"Nightmare?" Bruce guessed, letting out a small sigh as he sat on the bed, Dick scooting over to make more room (though there had been plenty before). Dick nodded, biting his lip as fresh tears filled his baby blue eyes. He couldn't help but sob as he hugged Bruce, small arms wrapping around the billionaire's larger torso. Strong arms enveloped him in a tight hug, and Dick allowed himself to soak up the comfort. "It's alright, Dickie," he soothed. "I'm right here."

"I c-couldn't f-find you," Dick whispered, voice muffled by Bruce's shirt. "I-I thought-"

"I'm right here, Dick," Bruce interrupted gently. "I won't leave you."

Dick pulled away enough to look up at him, tear-filled blue eyes meeting his navy ones. "Promise?" he asked softly.

Bruce nodded immediately, pulling him back into a tight hug. "Promise."

* * *

**29. Simple**

"I don't get this!" Wally groaned, forehead hitting the table with a loud _bang! _He stared at the textbook, names and dates seeming to swirl around in a jumbled, illegible mess. Why the heck did he care about all of these revolutions and wars? This was the last time he would ever take an AP History course…he was sticking to science only from now on.

He slammed his textbook shut; test tomorrow or no test tomorrow, he couldn't handle any more studying. He turned to stand up…only to meet a close-up of a pair of white lenses. "Whoa!" Wally yelped in surprise, chair falling backwards as he stumbled away. It was then he registered that it was Robin, his laughter echoing through the Cave.

"Yeah, yeah," Wally mumbled, cheeks flushing a bright shade of red that nearly matched his hair. "It's not that funny."

Robin tilted his head, studying his best friend carefully; Wally was definitely not his usual cheerful self. He noticed the textbook on the table and couldn't help but smirk. "History test tomorrow?" he asked.

Wally nodded, then paused. "Wait…how do you know?" he asked warily.

Robin cackled. "I'm a Bat; I know everything," he responded, voice taking on a mysterious tone that made Wally snort with barely concealed laughter. "Need any help?" Robin asked, already opening the text book and flipping through it.

"Dude, you're thirteen. I don't think-"

"I'm taking this class right now," Robin interrupted. "Acing it too. I'm pretty sure I can help you study."

Wally blinked before remembering the kid was practically a genius; Robin had helped on his math homework too, once or twice. There had been once incident where Robin tried to help Wally with his English, but that ended with a heated debate about prefixes and figurative language…Wally hadn't made the same mistake twice. The speedster let out a heavy sigh, resigning himself to studying; no matter how quickly he read, time always passed so s_lowly _when history was involved.

Robin laughed again at his best friend's expression, sitting down at the table. Somehow, he had found the exact same page that Wally had left off on. "Stay whelmed, Wally," he reminded.

Wally let out another groan, resisting the urge to slam his head into the table…again. "Easy for you to say," he mumbled. "You actually _like _this stuff."

"Hey, reading about different people trying to conquer the rest of the world is really interesting," Robin defended.

"Of course _you _would like that part."

Robin let out another cackle before turning his attention back to the textbook. "It's simple, really…" he started off.

...

Wally came home from school the next day, clutching his history test in his hand; a red 'A' was stamped on the top.

* * *

**30. Future**

Dick was shaking, violent tremors racing through his body. He curled up into a tight ball, almost as if he hoped to shrink into himself. Tears flowed freely down the eleven-year-old's cheeks, and he reached out blindly for Peanut. His fumbling fingers found the familiar fabric quickly, and he pulled the childhood toy into a crushing hug, hoping to gain some comfort from it.

It didn't work.

Dick bit his lip, unable to help the harsh sobs that ripped their way out of his throat. His tear-filled baby blue eyes were haunted as they glanced up at the calendar; April 1st.

It was only the second time he had to deal with the anniversary of…of their deaths. Even _thinking _it hurt, like someone had just ripped out his heart and then beat it repeatedly with a sledgehammer. It was an ache so deep it was almost unbearable, and Dick clutched Peanut tighter, letting out another whimper as he sobbed.

How was he supposed to do this? How was he supposed to deal with all of this heart-ache and grief, year after year? It seemed nearly impossible, and Dick wished again that this was nothing but some twisted nightmare and that he would soon wake up in his parents' arms.

Of course, that couldn't happen. Dick wanted to scream, to punch a wall, to do _something _to get rid of all the pain inside of him. His teeth sank into his lip by mistake and the salty taste of blood filled his mouth. Dick didn't even bother to wipe it away, simply crying harder, if such a thing were possible. That was how Bruce found him when he got home.

The billionaire stiffened, navy eyes flashing with a pain that came from seeing his boy hurting so badly, and knowing there was nothing he could do to help. Bruce wasted no time in pulling Dick into a tight hug, not caring about the tears that immediately dampened his shirt.

Dick slowly released Peanut to wrap his small arms around Bruce's neck instead. "Why?" he whispered, choking back a sob. "Why did they die?"

Bruce didn't have an answer, and simply held Dick tighter. Oh, he wished he could do something! But both of them knew there was nothing that could ease this kind of pain.

"I m-miss them," he mumbled, voice shaking just as badly as his body now. He buried his face into Bruce's shoulder, hoping to gain some comfort there. "I-I miss them s-so b-bad."

Bruce felt his heart break, and he rubbed Dick's back soothingly. "I know, Dickie," he murmured. "I miss them too."

Dick sniffled before continuing. "H-how do you d-do it? How do y-you k-keep going when it h-hurts so b-bad?" he asked, voice seeming to grow even quieter.

"You have to learn how to live with the pain," Bruce answered, hating himself for not having a perfect solution that could just wipe all of the hurt away. "Mary and John wouldn't want to see you this upset, chum. You can't live in the past."

Dick shook harder at the mention of his parents, the grief seeming to grow tenfold. "I-I know," he said, voice breaking, "I j-just m-miss them."

They stayed like that for what felt like hours, Dick finally running out of tears. He continued to whimper though, unable to help the pitiful sounds that escaped him. He had pulled Peanut back into his arms, trying to find that old circus scent in the familiar toy. He breathed it in deeply; Bruce was right. The change was so incredibly difficult to deal with, but there were _some _things to be grateful for, at least; like the fact that he now had a home rather than a cell at that detention facility.

Dick's blue eyes flitted over to the small picture he had of his parents, holding hands and laughing. Bruce was right about that too; they would hate to see him like this. Dick would smile and laugh for them, because he had to. The past would always haunt him, but maybe, just maybe, he could actually look forward to the future.

* * *

**A/N **Not entirely happy with some of these, but I just wanted to get them finished, you know? And I finally did! Sorry for taking so long with this entire thing guys; some of these just did not want to be written.

I am taking requests again though; please, if any of you have an idea or a suggestion, let me know! I really need the help.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	34. Haze

**A/N **This is sort of a continuation of Haze, one of the prompts. Just something I wrote to warm up and get back into the swing of things. ;)

**Disclaimer **Consider this disclaimed.

~Aiva

* * *

A scowl flitted across Robin's face, the white lenses of his domino mask narrowing into frustrated slits. Stupid guards at stupid Arkham…you would think they would at least be competent to prevent the mass breakout of nearly everyone, from Joker to Crazy Quilt. Apparently not, considering the fact that the Batsignal had been shining in the sky for _four hours _now.

At least it just wasn't Batman and him doing all of this alone; Kid Flash had managed to talk his way into spending the night, which meant he was able to go on patrol. Normally, Batman would argue against it, but frankly, there were far too many villains to deal with by himself, and there was no way he was letting Robin anywhere near the Joker. So Kid Flash was patrolling with Robin, mainly dealing with the lesser villains (despite Robin's complaints).

That had lasted up until Batman had contacted him over the comm units, informing him of a bomb Joker had set up near a small local hospital (which had already been evacuated); busy actually fighting the clown, Robin was the one that would have to deal with disarming it before any damage could occur. …Unfortunately, Poison Ivy had popped up near the botanical gardens, terrorizing any civilians in the vicinity. Kid Flash couldn't exactly disarm a bomb as quickly as Robin could (the thing had a freakin' time limit) so they would have to split up, the speedster taking care of Ivy while the acrobat dealt with the stupid bomb.

Robin was aware of the slight beads of sweat forming near his hair-line, but forced himself to focus solely on the task at hand, fingers nimbly dancing over the mess of wires. His scowl deepened as his brain worked furiously; this was definitely one of the more complicated weapons Joker had used. He bit his lip, hesitating when he reached a wire. Carefully, he pulled it apart, twisting the ends before reconnecting them with another wire, the copper sparking slightly. He let out a slight breath he hadn't realized he had been holding; so far, so good. Of course, he still had a ways to go…

He faltered when he reached a particularly complicated mess that looked like, as Wally would put it, a robot threw up. With that pleasant imagery in mind, Robin's fingers slowly went up to his comm link; Batman would probably know what the heck was going on with this thing. (Silently, Robin reprimanded himself for not brushing up on his bomb-disarming for so long.) His fingers dropped quickly, however; Batman definitely didn't need the distraction if he was fighting the Joker. It would be up to Robin.

Using his best judgment, Robin disconnected another wire. He sucked in a sharp breath as the timer flickered, then started counting backwards, much, much faster than before. _Crap, _Robin thought, before his world exploded.

The shockwave was enough to send him flying backward into the wall, his back slamming against it painfully. His vision darkened immediately as sharp lines of agony shot through his body, eliciting a small cry of pain out of the Boy Wonder. The flames that followed licked at his fire-resistant uniform, still sending an impressive smattering of burns across his pale skin. Judging by his fuzzy and sluggish thought process, he most likely had a concussion and some internal damage as well. Somehow, his dazed and hazy mind came to one last coherent conclusion;

_This sucked._

* * *

Kid Flash had just finished taking down Poison Ivy (it was obvious she wasn't quite used to dealing with speedsters; the spores had been taken care of by waving his arms around to clear the air, and the plants were rarely able to touch him). He was making his way back to where Robin had said he would be when a decent-sized explosion blew up a portion of the hospital. …The explosion Robin was supposed to be preventing.

Mind automatically jumping to the worst conclusion, his green eyes shot wide open, face paling visibly behind his freckles. He was off and running before the explosion had even ended, not even stopping to consider the fact that it probably wasn't safe to run into an area that had just blown up.

He was there in a matter of seconds, yet he still cursed himself for taking too long. His emerald eyes scanned the smoking, charred rubble frantically for the outline of his best friend before finally stumbling on a tattered shred of his Kevlar cape. "Rob," Kid Flash breathed out, already moving to shift the rubble aside. He flinched upon seeing the Boy Wonder; his uniform, despite the Kevlar reinforcements, was tattered, the shreds merely clinging to his burnt and bruised frame. His breathing was harsh and labored, and a trickle of blood seeped out of the corner of his mouth. "Rob," he repeated, a bit louder.

"Robin!"

* * *

Everything was fuzzy, the landscape blurring into smears of colors. Robin struggled to blink the blackness from his eyes, but found himself unable to, instead wincing as a fresh wave of pain ripped through his skull. He was vaguely aware of someone calling out his name, but the sounds were muffled and dim, as if they were speaking through a pillow. "K…KF," he mumbled, his tongue feeling thick and useless as he struggled to form the simple abbreviation.

Strong arms scooped him up, and Robin spotted the distinct shock of red hair belonging to his friend. "Hang in there, Rob, I got ya," Kid Flash said, worry clear in his voice. The speedster let out a low whistle. "Some explosion, huh?" he added. Hearing no response, his feet sped up as he chose the quickest route to the nearest hospital. "Don't you dare fall asleep on me," he warned.

Robin knew he had a concussion, and most likely some internal bleeding as well. If he fell asleep, he might never wake up. But he was oh so tired, and it seemed nearly impossible to stay awake for much longer. He had faith that Kid Flash would get him to a hospital in time; with that thought in mind, the Boy Wonder allowed his eyes to drift shut, ignoring the speedster's concerned, urgent words.

Relaxing into the familiar embrace, his mind sank into a welcome haze.

* * *

Kid Flash's breath caught in his throat when he realized Robin was now unconscious. His grip tightened on the damaged body of his best friend as he skidded to a halt by the entrance of the nearest hospital; he would simply crash through the doors, which were taking far too long to open, but he didn't want to risk injuring Robin any further.

But needless to say, the doctors working there at three in the morning were surprised when they were greeted with a strong, colorful gust of wind. They were even more surprised when they made out Kid Flash (Flash Boy, according to them). However, most of their surprise was reserved for the extensive injuries of Robin.

Kid Flash practically growled as a full three seconds passed, green eyes hardening in a way that seemed out of character for the easy-going speedster. "He's hurt," Kid pointed out, not caring that he was stating the obvious. "This is a hospital. Fix him."

This startled the doctors back into action, and they attempted to take Robin out of Kid Flash's arms; the speedster, however, refused to let go of his best friend. "I can get there faster than you can," he said quickly, words nearly at a super speed pace. "Tell me where to go."

There was no way he was leaving his little brother alone.

* * *

Kid Flash managed to talk his way into staying, even throughout the multiple surgeries; mainly, it had to do with the fact that no one had ever seen the Flash's protégé this willing to beat someone up…it was honestly a bit terrifying. Not half as bad as what they would endure when Batman got there, of course, but the intimidation factor was still enough to make them acquiesce to the speedster's stubborn insistence. If a Flash was being this serious about something, it was best not to argue.

Batman, however, wasn't even able to get there for another thirty minutes. Inwardly, he cursed every single lunatic in Gotham with every single curse he knew; if he hadn't been so rushed, the villains _definitely _would be regretting wasting his time. When he did get there, no one really bothered to argue about keeping him from Robin.

People pitied the poor fool who was stupid enough to try and do it anyway. It was never smart to mess with an over-protective brother and father.

* * *

Robin was unconscious for three days. During that span, Kid Flash had taken to pacing the floors; he was sure the tiles had some very interesting burn marks from when he couldn't help but vibrate…it was a nervous habit. Batman was usually beside his protégé's bed, radiating an odd mixture of concern, affection, and sheer rage. It was terrifying, yet adorable, in a weird sort of way. Batman had to leave for a small League mission, however; it wouldn't take more than a few hours, but apparently it was dire enough that they braved calling him in, despite knowing Robin's condition.

Kid Flash let out a sigh, the beeping machines seeming just as bad as if the room was silent. It weighed down on him heavily, seeming to make his thoughts sluggish, smearing them into a blur of memories, concerns, fears, and hopes. He ran his fingers through his already messy fiery hair, green eyes focusing on his best friend.

Robin _did _look slightly better; some of the minor burns had already disappeared. There were a few that lingered, but apparently the kid healed fast, because they were starting to fade as well. The only thing that made seeing him so painful was the IV in his hand, the monitors attached to him, monitoring everything from brain waves to heartbeat.

Kid Flash couldn't help but blame himself for all of this. Maybe if he had taken out Poison Ivy a little bit quicker, he might have gotten to Robin in time to do _something _to prevent this. The pit of anxious depression that had formed ever since Robin didn't wake up after surgery seemed to grow even deeper, blackening Kid Flash's thoughts and emotions. He briefly wondered if this was what Barry felt like, sitting and waiting for his nephew to wake up. Kid Flash couldn't help the small twitch of his lips; that had certainly been a memorable hospital visit.

He was pulled out of his jumble of thoughts by the heart monitor beeping just a little faster and the sound of Robin's breathing changing. Kid Flash perked up immediately, face lighting up with hope. _Come on, _he pleaded silently.

Robin's eyes, still hidden behind the mask, slid open. "KF?" he murmured, voice hoarse.

Kid Flash grinned, a smile so bright that it could have lit up all of Gotham. "Rob! You're awake!" His face took on a more solemn edge, and he fixed Robin with one of the most determined, serious looks he could muster. "Don't you _ever _blow yourself up again," he scolded. "Do you have any idea how worried I was? And Bats wasn't any better, believe me."

Robin's lips twitched in a small smile. His eyes glanced around the room, a small frown settling on his face. "Where is Batman?" he asked.

"League mission. He'll be back soon," Kid answered quickly. "Now seriously. Don't do that again."

Robin snorted, as close to a laugh as his dry mouth and sore throat could manage. "Not like I did it on purpose in the first place," he responded, a smirk forming on his face. Noting the lingering seriousness on the speedster's face, he let out a small sigh, wincing as that aggravated his broken ribs. _Stupid explosion. _"I won't do it again, KF. Trust me," he assured, hand moving towards his ribs unconsciously.

Kid Flash frowned, noticing the subtle movement. "You okay?" he asked immediately, green eyes studying the acrobat carefully.

"Fine," Robin assured. He was better than expected, really; he knew Kid wouldn't let him down in getting him to a hospital in time.

"Great, then can you explain to Bats how it wasn't my fault, and ask him to not kill me slowly and painfully?"

Robin couldn't keep in the small cackle that that elicited. "Relax, KF. He won't kill you."

Kid Flash grinned, and managed to squeeze into a small open space left on the hospital bed, reaching for the remote and turning on the small television in the corner of the room. He wrapped an arm around Robin, careful not to jostle anything important or painful. Robin leaned into the embrace gratefully. "Thanks, Wally," he mumbled, exhaustion starting to take its toll.

Kid Flash tightened his grip slightly. "No problem," he responded easily. "It's what big brothers do."

* * *

**A/N **Probably not my best work, but as I said, this was just to warm up.

Oh, and is anyone else really missing the brotherly fluff that is supposed to exist between Wally and Dick? I get that Wally's scared and angry, but it's obvious Dick isn't exactly happy either. He needs to get a grip and stop yelling at his best friend.

Now that I've gotten _that_ out of the way...

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	35. Roy

**A/N **An update! Yes! I had to split this one into two parts though, because it was getting so long.

Basically, Roy and Dick are kidnapped (because I needed a chapter with just the two of them). Dick is snarky. Roy is awesome. 'Nuff said.

**Disclaimer **I am a fangirl with a computer. That doesn't mean I own Young Justice.

~Aiva

* * *

Alfred was out of town, and Bruce was stuck at some "important" meeting that would most likely last for hours…and hours…and hours. Dick had resigned himself to a day of boredom and feeling almost stir-crazy until Bruce had made a surprise announcement; Dick could invite someone over. The only condition was it had to be a hero who knew both of his identities…which basically meant he could invite Wally or Roy. It was Take Your Child to Work Day in Central City, and Wally was hanging out in the forensics lab with Barry. Technically, Roy was busy too, but the archer _definitely _didn't mind skipping a few of his college classes. He swore some of those professors could put even Batman to sleep within minutes.

Unfortunately, Dick had also gotten sick. Not that he had told anyone, of course. Bruce would cancel the meeting, and Roy wouldn't be able to come over. Or Roy would come over anyway, there would be an epic show-down between the two, and both would start being incredibly over-protective, as if they were competing against each oher. It had happened before. It was definitely something Dick didn't want to experience again. Alfred had come home to find Dick curled up in some exercise equipment, wrapped in blankets and a box of tissues nearby. That poor boy had gone all over the house looking for some place to get away from both Bruce and Roy, who were practically about to murder each other with the orange juice and soup held in their hands.

That particular memory combined with the fact that Dick was just stubborn in general…he decided to just keep the fact that he was sick to himself. It wasn't _that _big of a deal, after all. Just a cold. Okay, maybe he had the flu, but just a small case. If anyone asked, though, he was claiming it was just the cold. They might not get as protective that way.

Dick swallowed some cold medicine, grimacing at the bitter taste. Glancing at the label again, he snorted. Medicine companies obviously had no idea what bubblegum tasted like. He hastily shoved it back into the medicine cabinet when he heard the door open and slam shut; Roy had apparently just let himself in with the key granted to him. (Wally wasn't as lucky. Both Alfred and Bruce claimed he would just lose it if they gave him one. So Wally had to wait for someone else to let him in.)

He raced down the stairs, ignoring the surge of nausea that followed the fast movement. Plastering a familiar smirk on his face, he practically tackled the archer, sending the two of them tumbling to the ground. "Hey, Roy," Dick grinned, somehow ending sitting on top of the older teen.

Roy rolled his eyes, though a grin was clear on his face as well. He managed to shove the thirteen-year-old off of him; not that it was hard. The kid was so light you could almost believe a strong wind could sweep him away. How he managed to steal so many cookies and remain so tiny, Roy would never know. "Hey, Boy Blunder," he responded easily, eliciting a jocose scowl from Dick.

Dick also stuck his tongue out, something he claimed only he could manage to make look mature. Neither Roy nor Wally had the heart – or courage – to tell him otherwise. "Dude, even Joker stopped calling me that. …Well, most of the time anyway," he argued, protesting against the irritating nickname. Somewhere deep down, he did appreciate the creative play on words, but that feeling definitely wasn't anywhere close to the surface.

"You're right," Roy apologized, the teasing note in his voice practically an invitation to continue the banter. "I should be calling you Bird Brain."

Dick crossed his arms, scowl deepening, though the amused glint in his eyes made it hard to take the ebony seriously. "Would you like to start this argument, Speedy?" he asked cheekily.

It was Roy's turn to scowl, and for a moment his fingers itched with the random desire to throw that stupid yellow hat on the ground; it had been satisfying in ways Roy couldn't quite understand or explain. "Shut up, _Dick."_

The thirteen-year-old didn't miss the emphasis on his name, and he let out a dramatic gasp that would make most people groan. "Why, Yellow Hat, I'm hurt! I thought we all agreed to never make…certain jokes…about my name!"

"And I thought we agreed never to mention the hat again."

Dick grinned. "You started it," he shrugged, uncrossing his arms to stand on his hands. Now upside down, he looked up at Roy curiously. "So, what do you want to do?" he asked.

Not at all perturbed by the fact that Dick was upside down (at least he wasn't flipping off the chandelier again), Roy shrugged. "What do _you _want to do?"

"We could see a movie," Dick suggested, a subtle note of boredom starting to edge his voice.

"Dick, I think we both know DaddyBats will feed me piece by piece to the bats if I let you leave this house," Roy responded. It was a threat that the archer had, sadly, heard many times before. It definitely wasn't an idle threat either; Bruce was insanely over-protective when it came to Dick. Then again, Roy was practically the same way (except he didn't have bats to feed anyone to…note to self).

Dick turned on the puppy dog eyes, blue orbs wide and glimmering with unshed tears. His chin quivered, and a soft sniffle only added to the adorable illusion. "Please?" he asked sadly, sounding as if his heart might break if Roy said no.

_Crap, _Roy thought. Actually he probably thought much worse than crap, but after a certain conversation with Dinah about his language, Roy was going to continue to claim he said crap. He tried to look away, but it was too late. Heart melting inside, he gave a gruff nod. "Fine, we can go see a movie. Maybe order a pizza or two. But then we're heading straight back here, okay?" he acquiesced.

Dick beamed, looking like a child who had been given a puppy on Christmas morning. "Thanks, Roy!" he chirped, false tears disappearing faster than you could say "Flash". "I already bought tickets," he continued, pulling out the two slips of paper and handing one to Roy. "It's some sort of horror movie with zombies. The reviews looked good," he shrugged.

Roy silently added this to the list of things Bruce wouldn't approve of, then started to wonder why he even cared. He was rebellious, and technically an adult. Besides, what Bruce didn't know wouldn't hurt him. So he accepted the ticket with a grin. "Sounds gory," he approved. "Let's go."

* * *

They were seated in the theater, already a few minutes into the movie. Within that time, five eyeballs, two arms, and one brain had already been eaten and splattered about in a gory mess that made most people gasp and scream. Dick merely watched with a morbid interest; he had seen worse. Came from being a vigilante in Gotham City.

He made it a few more minutes when a tickle formed in the back of his throat. Dick took a swig of soda, the bubbly liquid sweet and soothing. However, it did nothing to ease the itch. If he coughed, he wouldn't be able to stop for a while, and Roy would definitely know he was sick. But Dick simply couldn't hold it in, so he allowed himself a cough that turned into a rasping wheeze.

Clearing his throat, he attempted to avoid not meeting Roy's gaze, something made impossible when the archer practically forced the boy to look at him. "You okay?" he asked, concern and suspicion clear in his narrowed eyes.

Dick offered him a small grin. "Asterous," he responded. "Just some popcorn in my throat."

Roy accepted the lie, though a flicker of doubt continued to linger on his face. "Right," he responded half-heartedly, gaze flitting back to the giant movie screen.

Dick managed to make it through another zombie attack before he coughed again. He received a few harsh looks, and sheepishly returned them with a small smile. "Sorry," he whispered, just loud enough for them to hear.

"Dick, if you're sick-" Roy began.

"I coughed twice," Dick pointed out. "That doesn't mean I have the swine flu. I'm fine, Roy."

Roy was about to believe him until he coughed again, this time louder and longer. The ginger could practically hear it grating in the ebony's lungs, proven when Dick raised a hand to his chest, a slight grimace twisting his features before he rearranged them back into their normal look.

"Face it, Dick. You're sick, and I'm not going to mess with Bruce when he finds that out. We can rent a movie back home, but there is no way I'm letting you stay out here any longer," Roy said firmly, voice leaving no room for argument. This was one of the few times when puppy-dog eyes wouldn't affect him, no matter how big or tear-filled they were.

"Fine," Dick huffed, slightly irritated. He shrugged the emotion off; he could still talk Roy into ordering a pizza. He supposed things could be worse.

The archer still had to practically drag him out of the theater though, which attracted a few weird looks, all of which Roy ignored. After a few years of knowing Wally and Dick, he had gotten used to them. At least they weren't trolling Walmart again…that store had never let them back in.

When they got outside, Roy's frustration skyrocketed. Dick wasn't helping. "Are you sure you didn't park it somewhere else?" he asked skeptically.

Roy nodded, irritated and grumpy. "Yes, I'm sure! I remember parking in front of that parking meter because it was broken." Sure enough, the parking meter was bent at an odd angle, and dents marred the metal surface.

"Then someone stole it," Dick said unhelpfully.

"No one just steals my car!"

"Well, obviously someone did."

Roy would've glared at him, but a fit of coughs stopped him. His blue eyes softened, and he wrapped a warm arm around Dick's shoulders, silently cursing the cold autumn air. "We'll just have to walk then," he said, determined to get the kid back home.

"You want us to walk through Gotham…at night," Dick repeated, raising an eyebrow slightly as he attempted to stifle another cough. It didn't work, and his shoulders shook as the violent reflex made his lungs ache. He sucked in a deep breath, ignoring the scent of gasoline on the polluted air.

"We don't really have much of a choice," Roy shrugged. They were in Gotham, after all. It wasn't like Ollie or Barry could come pick them up, and Bruce obviously couldn't either. They were on their own right now.

"Point," Dick agreed. "Guess we better start walking."

They made it quite a few blocks before the entered the darker portions of Gotham. Trash littered the sidewalk and graffiti tattooed every single available surface. The apartments on either side of them were decrepit and abandoned, their cracked windows and sagging doorframes looking lonely, in an eerie sort of way. It was in this section of town things started to go really downhill.

"Roy," Dick whispered, soft words managing to seem unnaturally loud in the silent air. "It's way too quiet here." His voice was slightly stuffed up and hoarse, and Roy, acting on instinct, wrapped a protective arm back around the boy's shoulders.

Roy's eyes narrowed; Dick was right. There should at least be some sort of noise; the skittering of rats on concrete, the muffled sounds of fighting in the distance. Things were only this quiet when something bad was going to happen. The hair started to rise on the back of Roy's neck, and his grip on Dick tightened.

"Just a few more blocks," he muttered, silently pleading they'd be okay. They could handle common street thugs, sure, but depending on weapons and how many there were….things could go very badly, a fact not helped by Dick being sick.

"Roy," Dick managed to get out, the nasally tone disappearing for a moment as adrenaline seeped through his veins. His widened blue eyes were focused on a point just above the archer's head, and Roy whirled around quickly.

Not quickly enough.

A surprisingly large fist slammed into Roy's face, thrusting him backwards and most likely breaking his nose in the process. He ignored the fiery pain and warm blood gushing over his face now, wiping the crimson liquid away with his sleeve as his blue eyes settled into a hard glare. Ignoring his slightly dazed and scattered thoughts – his head had hit the brick wall pretty hard too – he stood, feet steady as if he wasn't injured at all.

His gaze quickly found Dick, and an actual growl rose in his throat when he did.

Reflexes sluggish from being sick and the cold, Dick hadn't quite been able to move away from the three thugs that had surrounded him in time. One had grabbed the struggling boy, though it certainly wasn't an easy task, judging by the number of times the solid, muscled man flinched. Man, that kid could kick _hard!_

Dick's teeth sank into the hand that covered his mouth, biting down hard. He nearly gagged at the sharp tang of sweat that coated his tongue, bit ignored the urge, even more adrenaline seeming to seep through him as the man let out a shout, dropping him in surprise. Dick dropped to the floor with an ease that came from being an acrobat, tucking his body into a neat roll and nearly making it past the remaining criminals.

Just as he was standing, however, he was grabbed from behind. Dick attempted to struggle again, instincts screaming at him to get away. He flailed and twisted in the thug's grip, but he was forced to stop as a knife was placed against his throat. The sharp metal was cold, stinging his flesh where it made contact. Dick shivered involuntarily, blue eyes meeting Roy's in an obvious plea for help.

Roy gritted his teeth; he couldn't do anything, or he would risk getting his little brother killed, and that was something he would _never _do. He clenched his fists, but forced his muscles to relax from the fighting stance they had been in.

The thug holding Dick – probably the leader of the small gang – grinned, his teeth glinting in the moonlight. "Pull out everything you've got and put it on the ground," he ordered. Another one of his men patted Dick down as he spoke, pulling out a wad of cash from the kid's pocket.

Roy hated to comply to their demands, but didn't seem to have much of a choice at the moment. His face hardening, he tossed his wallet and phone to the ground, ignoring the cracks he probably just made on the iPhone's screen. Ollie could always just buy him a new one, after all.

The leader grinned again, the expression sinister and smug; not a good combination. It made Roy's blood boil, and his hands clenched together even tighter. He was sure his fingernails were leaving imprints in his palm, but it was better than him lashing out and sending a knife through his little brother. "You've got the money," he pointed out tersely. "Now let the kid go."

"Hey, boss," one thug called out, a faint Jersey accent layering his voice, "I think the kid is Richard Wayne."

Dick tensed, blue eyes hardening. "It's Richard _Grayson, _idiot," he corrected, tone icy and angry.

The thug holding him tightened his grip, the knife making a thin line of red on his neck. Dick's heart seemed to skip a beat for a moment, and he silently scolded himself. He wasn't Robin right now, and definitely couldn't afford to be snarky with a knife to his throat. Generally, that didn't end well. "It doesn't matter, kid," the thug responded. "Ol' Wayne will pay up for you either way."

* * *

**A/N **I still have to write up some of part two, but I don't think it will take too long. ;) I'm not happy with the beginning of this, but I'm pretty sure I'm getting sick, and just don't have the energy to rewrite it. I hope it got okay later on though.

Oh, and quick question; do you guys want me to start responding to anonymous reviews here? I did that in "Fugitive", and it seemed to work out pretty well. I'd continue answering all of the others through PMs, though.

Or I could switch to answering all of them here, or making no changes at all. It's all up to you; I just need to know what you guys think.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	36. Roy II

**A/N **Okay...I lied. It got too long again, so I'm going to have to split it into three parts now. I don't think it will get much longer than that though...

**Disclaimer **Nope.

~Aiva

* * *

"_It doesn't matter, kid," the thug responded. "Ol' Wayne will pay up for you either way."_

Roy's glare was so intense he was honestly surprised he hadn't developed heat vision yet. "Don't you dare," he growled, voice low and threatening, a sound that would make Batman proud.

The thug sneered, an ugly expression that only made the archer's anger skyrocket. "What are you going to do about it?" he asked, voice condescending and smug. "You make one move and I run little Richard here through with a knife."

"First off, I'm not _that _little," Dick grumbled. He got the fact that he was short, but did everyone have to rub it in his face some way or the other?

"Shut up, kid," the thug reprimanded harshly, knife cutting a bit deeper into Dick's flesh. The boy let out a sharp hiss, muscles tensing at the sharp metal and stinging pain. "Or you lose a head."

Dick would've pointed out that, due to the size of the knife, cutting of his head would take far too long, but wisely decided against it.

"Uh…boss? What do we do with the ginger?" one thug asked hesitantly.

The leader seemed to consider it for a moment before shrugging. "Take him with us. If he's hanging out with Wayne's ward, he's got to be worth something," he answered.

_Kidnapping. Not good._ Those were some of the dominant thoughts running through Roy's mind. The others consisted of _These creeps are going to wish they ran into Batman instead when I get my hands on them._

Of course, Roy didn't voice those thoughts out loud; somehow, he doubted they would be received well by the man holding the knife.

As he was whacked in the head with the butt of a gun, one last thought flitted through the archer's mind.

_Crap._

* * *

Roy woke up slowly, a headache throbbing painfully against his skull. He resisted the urge to groan; dang, that hurt. His blue eyes slid open, blinking in momentary surprise as he struggled to figure out what happened. The memories came back in a rush, and Roy gritted his teeth. "Crap," he repeated, out loud this time.

The quiet curse was enough to make Dick stir, the small boy letting out a muffled cough as he woke up. "Roy?" he mumbled, the nasally tone of his voice even more prominent. Apparently, being hit in the head and knocked unconscious would make a cold worse. He sniffled, raising his head to meet the archer's gaze.

Roy noticed the blood caked into Dick's hair and the pale hue to his skin. His blue eyes were dull and tired, and it was painfully obvious the kid felt like crap.

Roy silently promised to send these creeps to jail in six-month body casts for ever touching his little brother.

"Hey, Dickie," Roy said softly. "You okay?"

Dick managed a wan smile in the ginger's direction, though a five-year-old could probably see through it. "'M fine," he slurred, too miserable to try and enunciate any further.

Roy's eyes narrowed. "Uh huh," he responded, disbelief practically dripping from the two syllables. He didn't press the matter further, however; they had more important things to deal with. Like the fact that he had no idea where they were or how the heck he was supposed to get out. He experimentally tugged at the thick rope binding him to the chair; it held firm, barely moving. He definitely wasn't getting out of that anytime soon. "Any idea where we are?" he asked, attempting to distract Dick.

The acrobat's blue eyes studied the room carefully for a moment before he shrugged, the motion jostling his head and making him wince. "It's an abandoned apartment, as far as I can tell. I don't think-" He was interrupted by another violent coughing fit, worsened by the dust in the air. "-they moved us far," he finished, a slight gasp following the words.

Roy winced at the cough, blue eyes hardening with a mixture of concern and determination. "I'll get us out of here, Dick," he promised. _Man, Bruce is going to kill me,_ he thought to himself. He didn't voice that out loud; again, more important things to worry about.

"M'kay," Dick murmured, head drooping lower.

Roy attempted to shift the ropes a little, but only succeeded in chafing his skin. He would've continued trying, but past experience reminded him that would only result in bloody wrists. "C'mon, Dickie. Stay with me here," he reminded.

Dick shot a weak glare in his direction. "It's not like…like I'm going anywhere." Another cough interrupted his sentence. "I'm kinda tied up here."

Roy rolled his eyes, though that didn't stop the slight grin at Dick's attempt at humor. "Thanks, Dick," he responded sarcastically, "Never would've guessed."

"Figured it was better to be safe than sorry," Dick answered, a teasing edge to his soft voice.

"Come on, I'm not _Wally."_ The comment elicited a small laugh out of the two of them, which turned into another series of coughs for Dick.

Roy winced in sympathy, wishing he could just gather the younger boy into his arms. "Dang, kid. You really _are _sick," he commented.

"_I _could've told you that," Dick gasped out, managing another weak glare, though it didn't have any malice behind it.

"Did you take anything for that cough?" Roy asked after another wheeze.

Dick nodded. "Yeah…didn't do much though." A memory struck him almost randomly. "Didn't even taste like bubblegum," he added.

Roy snorted, though concern was still evident in his gaze. "Do you know when Bruce is getting out of that meeting?" he asked after a quiet second.

"He wasn't sure when…said it would be late though. Maybe early tomorrow."

"Great," Roy groaned. "Well, there goes that option."

A loud bang from downstairs made Dick jump, and a quiet curse slipped out of Roy's mouth. They could hear similar words being shouted downstairs, and there were a few more bangs, along with a muffled cry of pain.

Dick met Roy's eyes, the expression of worry practically mirroring itself on their faces. It sounded like there was some sort of gunfight going on….generally not a good sign. This thought was further strengthened as the heavy sound of feet stomping up stairs cut through the air, soon followed by the door slamming open, thudding loudly against the wall.

The boys' faces hardened immediately, an expression that came from years of dealing with lunatics and facing death. The man was unfazed, cocking his gun warningly. His eyes were bloodshot, and it was clear from his slight stumble he was drunk. "Listen," he growled, voice slightly slurred, "I'm not in the mood to take a lot of crap. So I suggest you don't try anything."

Roy's gaze was torn between Dick, the gun, and the man holding it. He ended up just shooting the man a death glare that could rival an angry DaddyBats. "And I suggest you don't even think about shooting the kid. Because, I swear if you do-"

The thug gave a bitter laugh before his gaze turned icy. "Wayne can pay for your bodies; I don't really care," he commented, dead serious. "But I think he'll need a little…incentive." With that, he lashed out. Though his actions were slightly sluggish from the alcohol, he still landed a solid blow to Dick's head with the butt of his gun.

Dick let out a small hiss, a fresh trickle of blood seeping into his dark hair. Roy growled, the sound low and threatening. Not caring about the stinging pain in his wrists, he struggled desperately to get out of the ropes, to beat up the creep who had just _hit his little brother. _

"Stop!" Roy shouted, as the thug raised his gun again. His blue eyes were narrowed and his breath came in sharp pants, but his voice was steady as he spoke. "Don't hurt him. I'm Oliver Queen's ward; I'm a family friend of Bruce. They'll _both _pay whatever you ask for if you use me."

"No," Dick managed to get out, though the slur in his voice was more obvious. He definitely had a concussion now. "Ollie knows me too. They'll pay more for me."

"Are you kidding? I'm worth way more than you," Roy argued, refusing to let his little brother win this argument.

"Please," Dick snorted. "I-"

"Shut up!" The thug barked, shooting his gun at the ceiling to place emphasis on the words. A light sprinkle of plaster fell down on them, but no one paid attention to it.

"Idiot," Roy muttered. The gun turned to face him, and the archer stiffened, though a brief sensation of triumph flitted through his mind; at least the creep wasn't paying attention to Dick anymore.

"I just decided who'll be the incentive," the thug said coldly.

"Wow, a whole three syllables. I didn't think you knew words with more than two," Roy said dryly.

There was a bang, and a horrible fiery pain engulfed Roy's leg. He let out a cry of pain before gritting his teeth, refusing to make another sound despite the fact that it hurt _so bad._ Reflex tears burned his eyes, but he blinked them back, a snarl clear on his face. Through the haze of pain, he heard Dick calling his name. That was enough to make him focus. _Get it together, Harper. You've been shot plenty of times before, _he reminded himself.

"I'm fine," he said between gritted teeth, glancing up at Dick. Judging by the concern on the younger boy's face, Roy didn't exactly sound very convincing.

"Better hope Queen and Wayne pay up, kid, or you won't be fine for long," the thug said, the statement remarkably coherent for being drunk.

Roy scowled, fighting through the agony in his leg; he couldn't give in because Dick needed him. That, and he was far too stubborn. "You're gonna regret this as soon as they come," he growled, panting slightly.

"Shut up!" the thug barked, slamming the metal gun into the teenager's shoulder.

A new wave of pain coursed through him; honestly, Roy was lucky it hadn't broken. He had been through enough injuries to tell it was a slight fracture at most; still, it hurt like crap. It felt like his entire body was wracked with pain at this point, sending throbbing waves through him.

"Don't touch him again!" Dick shouted, ignoring his scratchy throat and how hard it was to breath. He was _not _letting Roy take another hit if he could help it.

"Kid, I've had just about enough outta the both of you," the thug growled, turning the gun on the smaller boy. He shot, but was unable to aim properly, the bullet just grazing the acrobat's arm. It was enough to elicit a sharp hiss out of Dick, and his dull blue eyes sparked with the fresh pain.

It was enough to get both of them to be quiet though, only the heavy sounds of their breaths filling the dusty air.

"Good," the thug sneered, teeth a nasty shade of yellow. Roy was tempted to make a comment about dental work, but considering the copious amount of blood soaking his jeans, he decided against it. "I'm going to go call Wayne; try anything, an' only one of you will be breathing when he pays." He stomped out of the room, Roy waiting for the sound of his uneven footsteps to fade before speaking.

"Alright, Dickie. We're going to get out of here, okay?" His voice was quiet but firm; he didn't care what it took, but he was _not _letting Dick stay here. The kid looked absolutely miserable, his face pale and some of his dark hair matted with blood. A thin trickle of blood dripped from his arm; the bullet didn't seem to have grazed too deeply though.

Roy couldn't say the same thing about his bullet wound. It hadn't hit any major arteries or nerves, but it definitely scooped a decent trail of flesh out of his calf. He would recover, but the bleeding definitely needed to be staunched. His arm was aching too, throbbing to the beat of his racing heart. He could deal with that though; he had ignored pain before. Dick was his main priority.

Time to bust out of here.

* * *

**A/N **On the bright side, I've already started some of part three, so the wait shouldn't be too long. Hopefully, my schedule will remain fairly open too. ^^

And yeah, they didn't recognize Roy. Why? In my mind, the press made a bigger deal of Dick's adoption than they did of Roy's (and yes, Ollie is still rich in this.) Plus, this is Gotham, home of Bruce Wayne. Dick is going to be recognized more easily than Roy would be.

Anyway, I think I will start responding to reviews here; I'll try it out the next chapter and see how it goes. If I don't like it, I'll switch back to what I've been doing.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	37. Roy III

**A/N **I have no idea why this chapter was so difficult to write...I apologize in advance for any lousy sections that could've been written better.

**Disclaimer **Owning Young Justice is about as likely as snow in July. In a hot desert. During a drought.

~Aiva

* * *

Though his torso had limited mobility, being tied to the chair, he could manage movement with his lower body. He attempted to scoot the chair over, the legs squeaking against the dusty floorboards. Pain shot through Roy immediately as his leg and arm were simultaneously jostled. He hissed between gritted teeth, blue eyes screwing shut as he forced himself to scoot forward even more. He really wanted to let out the string of curses dancing on his tongue, but forced himself not to; he definitely didn't want Dick to start saying that crap.

"Roy," Dick spoke up, voice hesitant and quiet.

"Yeah?" Roy gasped out.

"You're going to bleed out if you keep moving your leg like that."

Roy grimaced; nothing got past this kid. "We can stop the bleeding after we get untied," he responded, shifting closer. Dick caught on (though thinking had become rather difficult with the concussion) and helped by managing to scoot over a good few inches. It felt like an eternity until Roy was at the point where he could reach Dick's hands. "Dick, untie me first, and then I'll get you," he instructed.

Dick nodded, though the movement made him wince. His fingers fumbled over the rough rope as he struggled to mentally piece together what exactly he had to do to untie the knots. He finally managed though, the rope loosening around Roy's wrists before dropping to the floor. The archer winced, rubbing the raw skin and ignoring the blood that now stained his fingertips.

He shifted in his chair, unwilling to stand until he absolutely had to. He untied Dick quickly and efficiently, the boy slouching forward as his restraints were loosened. Roy had a sneaking suspicion that those ropes had been holding him up for most of the time. Dick forced himself to straighten, though it elicited a soft moan out of him. Concussion and the flu…_not _a good mixture. He wasted no time in pulling out a roll of bandages; where he had gotten them, Roy wasn't entirely sure, but he had learned long ago not to question a Bat. Dick had once managed to produce a pillow pet out of seemingly thin air; Wally was still trying to figure that out, actually.

Ignoring the sluggish, foggy qualities of his thoughts, Dick studied the bullet wound in Roy's leg carefully. It didn't look like it would cause any permanent damage if it was treated properly, but they both needed a hospital. He bandaged the wound quickly, trying to ignore the hisses of pain as pressure was applied.

"Thanks, Dick," Roy managed once the boy was done.

Dick mumbled something inaudible in response, blinking his blue eyes tiredly. The only thing that had been keeping him going was adrenaline, honestly. He was tempted to just collapse. Roy poked him in the arm without the scrape. "Stay awake, Dickie," he ordered, voice firm. "We've got to get out of here."

"We can't fight them," Dick slurred.

"We won't," Roy assured. "We're going to sneak out of here. I don't think we're higher than the second floor; we could always use a window."

"No…your leg," Dick reminded.

Roy had been willing to risk it if it meant getting his little brother out of here, but he knew Dick wouldn't let him. "Fine. We'll just take the stairs," he agreed, though the thought of stairs seemed almost as painful as jumping. This was going to hurt like crap. He forced himself not to show it though, even as he stood.

Tears momentarily blurred his vision before he blinked them back, grinding his teeth together in order not to cry out. The pain was nearly overwhelming, but he refused to give in. He had been through worse, right? Still, he avoided putting weight on his leg as much as possible, and tried to avoid moving his arm too. "Come on, Dickie. Up you go," he grunted, using his free arm to tug Dick to his feet, though his leg screamed in pain at the momentary extra weight. _Note to self, _he thought, _don't do that again._

Dick swayed slightly when he stood, coughing lightly. He pushed through it though; pain was familiar to him as well. He let Roy lead the way though; Dick didn't exactly trust himself to think clearly and provide good direction right now.

They made it down the stairs without very many problems, though Roy wanted to scream throughout most of it and nearly passed out once. Dick didn't seem like he had handled it too much better, his swaying much more pronounced.

Unfortunately, that's when things started going wrong. In hindsight though, Roy really should've seen this coming. Well, he did expect it; he just didn't want to think about it, simply because he had no idea how exactly he was going to deal with it. A bullet wound and fractured arm really sucked. "Stop 'fore I shoot!" the thug slurred. Judging by the empty alcohol bottles on the table, he had gotten even more drunk than before. It was an impressive feat that he was able to hold his gun as steady as he was.

…Then again, staring into the black hole of the muzzle, Roy decided he had the right not to be very impressed. Roy shoved Dick behind him with his good arm, big brother instincts becoming even more pronounced than before, if possible. "We've already called the cops," Roy said, attempting to reason with the guy, even though it was probably pointless. "You don't want to be charged for murder on top of kidnapping." Of course, they had done no such thing, but the guy with the gun didn't need to know that.

The thug's grip wavered, the gun bobbing up and down as his bloodshot eyes narrowed. "No…they ain't gonna find you," he reasoned, the slur in his voice even more pronounced.

Roy was tempted to curse him out for being such an idiot, but refrained. "They already know where we are," he pointed out, adding to his lie. "Just give it up."

"No," the thug insisted, seeming to only be able to manage one syllable at the moment. Sluggish mind obviously puzzling this over, he seemed to reach the conclusion that the only way to get out of this was to shoot…so that's what he did. Lucky for Dick and Roy, his aim was once again off, the bullet careening into the plaster of the wall.

Roy never thought he would be glad for alcohol. He instinctively flinched, pushing Dick farther behind him…only to realize Dick had disappeared. Somehow, he had managed to stealthily walk up behind the thug, and had picked up a gun from one of the dead criminals on the floor. Probably mustering whatever strength he had, he swung it, making contact with the thug's head with a satisfying crack. Needless to say, the thug dropped like a stone.

Roy made a mental note to never underestimate the kid again; how he had done that with a concussion while being sick, the archer had no idea. He only had a bullet wound to the leg and a fractured arm and he still wouldn't have managed to do that. "Good job, Dickie," he said, limping closer. He wanted to black out at the motion, but forced himself to ignore the black encroaching on his vision.

Dick blinked, blue eyes glazed and full of exhaustion. Obviously, doing that had taken quite a toll on his meager remaining strength. A soft moan escaping his lips, he sank down to the floor. Roy let out a soft curse, setting his pain aside to limp even faster. He dropped to his knees, though a cry of pain followed the movement. He anxiously checked the boy's vitals, cursing again when he noticed how shallow Dick's breathing was and the fact that he was as white as a sheet. His hand went to his pocket automatically in hopes of calling for help, only for him to remember that he no longer had his phone on him. Unless the thug had already called Bruce (which Roy had no idea if he had or not) no one knew where they were.

Roy came to the conclusion he had to get them out of there somehow.

_This is going to hurt, _he thought silently, already bracing himself for the agony that would surely follow what he was about to do. Ignoring the steady ache in his arm, he scooped Dick up, cradling the boy close to his chest. That in itself was enough to drag another curse out of Roy; it hurt much worse than he thought he would. Stupid fracture.

That was nothing compared to the fiery agony that coursed through him as he attempted to stand. Roy experienced the sensation of flying as the pain caused him to feel light-headed, and he was unable to help the cry of pain that slipped out again. A string of curses followed, words that would make Dinah wash his mouth out with soap. Though considering the torture that was setting his nerve endings on fire at the moment, Roy thought that he deserved a few good curses.

He took one faltering step forward, only the thought of Dick keeping him from collapsing on the ground and screaming. Just…ten more steps to go. By the second, he was ready to succumb to the unconsciousness that pressed on him persistently. He forced himself to keep going, somehow managing to open the door and get outside. By that point, his head was fuzzy and it was difficult to focus on anything. Roy spotted a car, and he let out a noise that wasn't half as loud as it should've been, muffled by how dry his mouth was and how hard it was to think.

That stole whatever breath he had left, and Roy simply couldn't hold on any longer. He collapsed, only managing to keep Dick from hitting the ground too hard before he sank into the welcome, painless state of unconsciousness.

* * *

An involuntary moan slipped out as Roy forced his eyes open, despite how heavy they seemed. He forced them to focus, trying to figure out where the heck he was. The smell of antiseptic and bright lights hit him a few seconds later…but why was he in a hospital? How did he get here? An even more important question surfaced over the rest of them. Where was Dick?

Roy ignored the haze of pain medicine, pushing himself into a sitting position. The motion made his head swim and sent a twinge of pain through his arm, but he dismissed the sting. "Easy there," Ollie's familiar voice said.

Roy blinked, noticing his mentor for the first time. Still, he struggled to get up. "Where's Dick?" he demanded.

"He's fine," Ollie assured. He placed a hand on Roy's shoulder, gently pushing him back into the hospital bed. Roy pushed him off, blue eyes hardening.

"That wasn't my question. Where is Dick?" he repeated, refusing to simply lay there until he was sure his little brother was actually okay.

"Roy-"

"Where. Is. Dick?"

Ollie definitely wasn't going to win this battle. Recognizing this, he let out a small sigh. "Just across the hall," he answered.

Roy attempted to stand immediately, though the biting pain in his leg nearly brought him back down again. He gritted his teeth, swaying slightly as his vision momentarily darkened. Ollie moved over to his ward, supporting him almost instinctively. He may not be the best father figure, but he knew how to handle injuries, at least. Roy attempted to shrug him off again, ducking out of his grip only to lose his balance on his good leg and tilt dangerously to one side. Ollie grabbed him again, steadying him. "It's either me or crutches," he pointed out, unable to help the slightly amused note at Roy's obvious frustration.

Roy grimaced, but acquiesced; being supported by Ollie wasn't half as humiliating as c_rutches. _"Fine," he grumbled, reluctance obvious as he allowed his legal guardian to help him limp out of the hospital room. He made it to Dick's room, suddenly grateful for the pain meds; walking before had been a nightmare. He let out a small sigh of relief as he saw Dick already awake, though groggy, talking to Bruce. Bruce paused in whatever he was saying, causing Dick to look up.

The thirteen-year-old's eyes brightened when he saw the archer. "Roy!" he said, pale face lighting up. Bandages were wrapped around his head and arm, and his voice was stuffy and hoarse, but Roy was content to see he was alive and relatively out of harm's way. The ginger teen moved closer to the bed, both Ollie and Bruce moving away by some unspoken cue; it was obvious the two didn't need anyone around at the moment.

Roy settled himself into a nearby chair, still studying Dick with concerned blue eyes; his big brother instincts were still obviously raging. "You okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Dick assured, ignoring the nasally tone of his voice. "What about you? You were hurt worse than I was."

"Hey, I'm not the one who passed out and had to have my sorry butt carried outside," Roy teased.

"It's not _my _fault they gave me a concussion," Dick protested, a slight pout forming on his face.

"No, but you were the one kept insisting you weren't sick," Roy pointed out, fixing his younger brother with a slight glare. "Seriously, Dick, you have to stop doing that."

"…Sorry?" Dick tried, widening his blue eyes slightly to increase his look of adorableness. The fact that he was injured really just made him look pitiful, and Roy found himself ruffling the kid's dark hair affectionately.

"Just don't do it again," he ordered.

"Got it," Dick grinned.

"Good," Roy approved. "I don't need DaddyBats hunting me down." He suddenly shifted, ignoring the pain that followed. "Now scoot over," he added. Dick complied, making room for his big brother quickly. Roy plopped down on the bed next to him, wrapping a protective arm around Dick, trying to avoid the IV as he did.

Dick leaned into him, unable to hide the slight yawn. His blue eyes drooped shut, and Roy couldn't help but laugh. "Get some sleep, Dickie-bird," he said, adjusting his grip to make it more comfortable.

"M'kay," Dick agreed sleepily. It only took a few seconds for his breaths to turn into soft snores, and Roy grinned even as he shook his head.

This boy was going to be the death of him.

* * *

**A/N **Not entirely happy with this chapter, but I think I've already made that clear. I'm too busy to go back and rewrite it though...so, yeah.

For the record, I have no idea why a random car would be driving around a bad section of Gotham...let's just say they were lost. And I don't know if anyone was confused by this or not (since I didn't really mention it specifically), it was the driver/passengers in that car that took them to the hospital. Yep, a kind Gothamite stepped in.

I think Ollie was slightly OOC, too...oh well.

Oh, and I don't think I'll respond to reviews here anymore...I didn't like it as much as I thought I would. Next time, I'll just respond to the anonymous reviews here, and see how that works out.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!

**Mailbag**

I am psychowriter: It makes me _feel _awesome to hear that I have loyal fans, lol. Never thought I'd be able to say that... Right. Thanks for the review!

Midnightpath: I couldn't resist throwing that scene in. XD Actually, that's how I got the idea; this random scene about Roy and Dick arguing over who's worth more popped into my head all of the sudden. I brainstormed for a few minutes, and came up with the rest of this. ^^ And...I think a DaddyBats glare is only possible by someone other than Batman if they are incredibly angry/protective/worried. And it's very, very scary. ;)

Guest that reads: Yeah, the boys are having some issues at the moment. At least they've recieved medical attention now, lol. And...I don't know what to call Ollie either. ArcherFather could work...

Mikster22: Thanks! I'm glad you like it!

ARL15: Roy is an amazing big brother. -nods- The next part of review actually made me laugh out loud; I wish I could've put in Roy/Bats beating up the thug, but it didn't want to be written, unfortunately. I'll just go with imagining Bats tracking him down later and putting him in a body cast for touching his son, lol.

DarkMousyRulezAll: Lol, suspense. Gotta love it. I think someone once called me "the evil author of cliffies" or something similar...I think I sort of lived up to that in this. ^^

Reina Grayson: Lol, I'm tempted to use that phrase at some point now. ;) Thanks for the review!

celestialstarynight: Yeah, Roy and Dick weren't exactly the smartest there; they really should keep their mouths shut. Then again, where's the fun in that? ;) Thanks for the review!

I. Love. Dick. Grayson: I have officially bashed canon in the face. ^^ ...Why is it so much fun to do that?

jordylily777: Sorry! I couldn't help it...it's just so much fun to leave off at parts like that. XD No cliffie in this chapter though!

drawolftiger: Aw, thanks! Looking back, I probably could've posted it by itself...but I really needed to update this. XD

theotakuprincessofgotham: Well, here it is. ^^ Thanks for the review!

5-STAR: DaddyBats is amazing. -nods- Thanks for the idea!

Midnight1906: Angroy...XD I love that.

Airmage: Thanks!

READINGhearts17: Oh yes. Time to bust. ^^


	38. Memories

**A/N ***hangs head in shame* Sorry for not updating; I've been pretty busy lately. Sadly, I still will be for the next little while; so I apologize again for the short chapter and the fact that you might have to wait a little bit for the next chapter.

By the way, this does actually take place after another one of my stories, "Fugitive". I was trying to get in the mood to write the sequal, so...yeah. You can still enjoy the brother fluff even if you haven't read it; just imagine some random traumatic kidnapping.

**Disclaimer** I still don't own Young Justice...

~Aiva

* * *

A scream ripped through the air, full of such raw terror it would send chills down any sane person's spine. Wally jerked away, heart racing as he glanced around his room. For a moment, the heavy shadows and occasional streak of dim moonlight disoriented the speedster. His confusion faded so quickly it was almost like it had never existed in the first place, concern and a feeling of protectiveness taking over instead. He moved over to his best friend's side at a speed that made his outline blur.

Dick was writhing, body twisting and turning as he fought off whatever imaginary demons were torturing him. A thin layer of cold sweat coated his face, lending his pale flesh a sickly gleam. His face was contorted into an expression of sheer, animal panic, eyes fluttering desperately behind closed eyelids. "NO!" he screamed, before lapsing into his native language. The slur of vowels and consonants was completely foreign to Wally's ears, and he silently promised himself to ask Dick to teach him Romani later. Wally winced as more screams punctuated the air, and he silently hoped Uncle Barry and Aunt Iris would have enough sense to stay away; their presence wouldn't help right now.

Wally bit his lip, anxiously prodding the thirteen-year-old's shoulder. "Dick, wake up," he urged, keeping his voice as calm and soothing as possible. Dick flinched away, another cry escaping his lips. Wally silently scolded himself for not thinking about this earlier; of course Dick would have nightmares! He _always _had them after a traumatizing event, and it had been mere days since their escape. "C'mon, Dickie," Wally repeated, a bit louder. "Wake up. It's just a dream, Dickie-bid. I'm right here."

The words did nothing to help, so Wally decided to take more drastic measures. The speedster ignored the struggles of his best friend, gathering Dick's small, trembling frame into his arms. The ebony's blue eyes shot open, and he momentarily fought to get away. Wally only tightened his grip, feeling his heart shatter further as he made out Dick's mumbled pleas to make it stop. "Shh, Dickie-bird," Wally hushed. "It's just me. I'm right here, I promise. You're safe; I won't let him get you ever again. You're safe." He was repeated himself, but he honestly didn't care; Dick needed something familiar to grasp too, and this was a routine they had both become accustomed to whenever Dick would spend the night.

Dick was sobbing, the harsh, broken gasps a clear sign of how badly he was hurting. He was still shaking, thin frame almost like a leaf caught in the wind. His skinny arms hesitantly reached up to hug Wally's neck, and the speedster responded by murmuring quiet words of comfort, rocking back and forth as he rubbed Dick's back. "Wally," the ebony cried out, grip tightening. "It w-was so real. I-I - "

"He's gone, Dick. I promise, it's all over now," Wally interrupted. "You're safe, Dickie-bird."

Dick didn't respond other than to take a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. Wally couldn't help but be impressed by how brave the kid was; Dick had just been through one of the most traumatizing events of his life, having to endure both physical and mental torture while believing his only hope at recue to be dead. He was only thirteen! If Wally had to go through that, he would be an absolute wreck; Hope dying had left him wounded enough. The fact that Dick was already forcing himself to calm down and recover…it was amazing. He really was a Boy Wonder.

…But even a Boy Wonder couldn't bounce back immediately. They would both need time to heal even partially, and it was clear the process was only just beginning. "But it's _n-not _over," Dick responded, the broken tone in his voice so empty and sad it would melt even the hardest of hearts. "E-every night I s-see it, a-and I just want to forget! I j-jump at every shadow, and I h-hate it!"

Wally hugged him tighter, pressing the lower half of his face into Dick's dark hair in a gesture that made them seem exactly like brothers. "I can't forget it either, Dick. I just keep thinking of…" A painful lump rose in his throat at the name, but he forced himself to swallow past it. He couldn't quite finish the name. He moved on, choosing not to dwell on the subject. "But we'll make it through this. If you can still smile after all you've been through, I _know _you can make it through this."

"How much more can I take?!" Dick asked, the sudden anger surprising Wally. "You think having to watch my parents die would be bad enough, but the universe seems determined to put me through as much pain as possible!" Anger had taken the trembling out of his voice, but the broken quality was still there.

Wally was sure he was going to strangle Dick, he was hugging the kid so hard. "Gosh, Dick," he muttered. "Listen, you're the strongest person I know. Yeah, you watched your parents die. You were beaten by Two-Face until you almost died. You watched your entire family and all of your friends die while having to act like Batman. You've had to face nearly every single psycho in Gotham _and _most of the other cities too. But you've always made it through alive. You've always recovered, you always bounce back with a smile on your face and some witty comment that makes you sound like an idiot but makes everyone laugh anyway. If you can make it through all of that, I _know _you can make it through this. And I'm right here for you, Dick. Don't forget that, ever."

Dick had flinched away at the first few memories, but had gradually become more relaxed as Wally went on. He took a deep, shuddering breath, feeling like he had gained a semblance of control again. "Thanks, Wally," he mumbled, letting out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. "I just wish I could forget this whole mess."

"I know, Dickie," Wally said, voice soft. "I do too. But we'll make it through this, like we always do, okay?"

Dick nodded. "Do…do you think they'll come back for us?" he asked hesitantly, fear lacing the words.

"Even if they do, they won't lay a hand on you. I won't let you go back to that place ever again, okay? You've got the Team, half the League, Daddy Bats, _and _me watching your back," Wally reminded. "They won't stand a chance."

Dick nodded again, stifling a yawn. He was exhausted physically from the late hour, and the emotional stress he had just been through only increased that. "Go to sleep, Dickie-bird," he prompted, adjusting his grip to make the ebony a bit more comfortable.

"Don't leave," Dick murmured.

"I'm not going anywhere," Wally assured, unable to help the small smile that stole across his face as Dick relaxed, drifting off to sleep at an impressive speed. Dick was forcing himself to be strong, but it was moments like these where it was painfully obvious he was still just a kid; a kid who had seen way too much in thirteen years, but a kid nonetheless. He needed to know he was safe, that someone would be there for him. Wally was going to take that job upon himself; he would go to the ends of the earth and back for his little brother if he had to.

"I'll protect you," he promised quietly.

* * *

**A/N **Yeah, again sorry for the short chapter. I'm thinking of doing some DaddyBats fluff next...it's about time I write some. Let me know what you guys think.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	39. Reporters

**A/N **I am so sorry guys; I wasn't paying attention to how long it had been since I updated. This was actually a request from ProtectorKorii I got a while ago; basically, Dick gets swarmed by reporters and Bruce has to save him. I didn't end up writing exactly that, but...there's still plenty of DaddyBats fluff. ^^

**Disclaimer **If I owned Young Justice, do you really think we would have to wait until January to see more episodes?

* * *

Apprehension clung to him like a blanket, filling his mind with the unwelcome buzz of anxiety. Dick tugged at the bottom of his suit jacket, frowning as the material pinched his shoulders; he felt trapped by the suffocating fabric, the sapphire tie around his neck only sharpening the feeling until it was practically unbearable. Still, the nine-year-old said nothing, not willing to break the slightly awkward silence that hung in the air. He allowed his thoughts to wander instead, staring aimlessly out the window to watch the trees blur as they swept by. He was tempted to complain and ask if he really had to go, but Dick hadn't quite gotten over his insecurity of being sent back to the orphanage – or juvenile detention facility, as he had been informed – if he did something wrong. He wasn't willing to voice his thoughts if it meant risking that possibility; he didn't know if he could take the slaps and harsh words again. If it wasn't the guards insulting him and ordering him around, it was the older boys, calling him a circus freak as they beat him up. Those two weeks there had been a living nightmare, especially since he was still trying to cope with the very recent deaths of his parents, the beloved Flying Graysons.

Dick shook himself out of his thoughts, forcing himself to focus on the present. He couldn't dwell on that right now, or he would risk breaking down and crying again, something he refused to do in front of the people that he was sure to run into. This would be his first public event as Bruce Wayne's ward, after all. He had been told somewhere that first impressions were everything, and the minute boy was determined to make a good one. Maybe if he proved he was well-behaved and normal, the newspapers would stop saying such hateful things. Dick wasn't blind; he could read the rumors that were spread. He didn't understand some of them, but he could get the gist of others, and they were enough to bring a frown to his pale gypsy face.

A slight jerk signaled the end of the car ride, and Dick finally met Bruce's gaze. "Ready?" the billionaire asked, navy eyes piercing him as they studied him carefully. Dick nodded, but his discomfort must have been clear, because Bruce gave him a sympathetic expression and gentle smile. "I never really liked these things either," he confided in a loud whisper, eliciting a tiny smile out of Dick. As the got out of the car, the acrobat hesitantly slipped his small, calloused hand into Bruce's larger, warmer one, feeling a bit relieved when his hand was given a reassuring squeeze.

With that, Bruce led them through the swarm of people and flashing lights, the rapid clicking of cameras and loud shouts disorienting the small boy who felt smothered by all of the attention. He was used to having all eyes on him, but this was oh-so-different from the circus, where the faces watching him were warm and smiling, rather than judgmental and…predatory, in a way. It made Dick nervous, and he unconsciously moved closer to Bruce, taking comfort from the large, strong man's presence.

Dick didn't realize he had been holding his breath until they made it inside, exhaling in shaky relief that it was over; he didn't understand how Bruce could give them such a big smile, even though it seemed a bit…fake. He soon realized inside wasn't much better than outside, though. While there weren't any cameras anymore, it seemed _everyone _was now staring at them, and there were a _lot_ of people. Dick felt his breath catch in his throat and he stepped slightly behind Bruce, shifting his weight from foot to foot nervously. Bruce placed a hand on his head, reassuring him with the simple touch.

_Just three hours, _Dick thought, _I can make it through three hours. _Well, he hoped he could anyway. Judging by the way that some of the women were sidling up to Bruce, he was starting to doubt it. "Aw, how cute!" one of them squealed, her diamond earrings sparkling as she leaned forward and pinched his cheeks. Dick wasn't sure if that was meant to be affectionate or not, but it _hurt, _her fake nails digging into his cheek. His hand flew up to the now red spot, but he remembered the hours of etiquette lessons Alfred had drilled into him and forced a shy smile on to his face. "Thank you," he murmured, unable to manage a louder voice. "I'm Richard Grayson. It's nice to meet you."

An expression of surprise made its way on to her face before her vibrant red lips formed a smile again, though it looked just as fake as Bruce's. Dick couldn't help but frown, hiding behind the billionaire again. He ended up being shoved away by a tall lady wearing a tight blue dress that didn't look like it would be very warm or comfortable. He opened his mouth to cry out in surprise, but shut it abruptly; some of the women were already giving him mean looks. Dick shrunk back, pale cheeks flushing a gentle red; he wasn't sure why, but it made him feel almost embarrassed; had he done something wrong? He didn't remember anything…

Dick was swept away by the crowd, finding himself by the refreshments table. He stood on his tiptoes, struggling to make out Bruce's figure amidst the crowd. Not seeing him anywhere, Dick resigned himself to the awful feeling of being alone and lost until the end of the party; surely Bruce would come looking for him then. He decided to stay by the table, even if he wasn't actually hungry; it was something solid to use as an anchor against the bodies all around him. He found himself clinging to the white table cloth, gripping it nervously in his hands. About twenty minutes passed like that before Dick actually started listening in on the conversations; it wasn't like there was anything else to do.

"I can't believe Brucie would actually take in a kid."

"I know! He doesn't seem like the type; I wonder why he bothered."

"Well, you know what people are saying…" Their voices dropped, becoming a low buzz before rising again.

"I give it another week before he sends it back to the orphanage."

Dick's head shot up, his blue eyes widening as the filled with tears. He gripped the table cloth tighter, biting his lip to hold back the salty drops that wanted to spill over. Bruce wouldn't send him back…right? Bruce might not be there all the time, but that didn't mean he wanted to go back to that awful place!

"Oh…I think the kid was listening," one lady said, voice only a fraction quieter.

"Well, it's true. He's not going to keep _gypsy trash."_ She spoke it like a curse, and a lone tear streamed down Dick's cheek. He sniffled, trying to hold back the sobs that wanted to escape him. He slipped into the crowd, but all he could hear now was the biting words. He could practically feel their gazes on him, cold and uncaring.

_Circus freak…going to be sent back…worthless brat…don't know why Bruce even bothered…stupid…trash…_

Dick was running, twisting his body to avoid running into too many people. He ended up near the wall, tears flowing freely down his now flushed cheeks. He was trembling as he pressed himself against the expensive wooden boards that were probably worth more than he was. After all, maybe he really was trash. If so many people were saying it, it had to be true to an extent. He wished his parents were here…_they _would never call him a circus freak, or worthless, or stupid. Of course, that thought only brought a fresh wave of tears that cascaded down his face.

"Hey kid, what's wrong?" The voice was unexpected, jerking Dick out of his thoughts. The small boy hurriedly tried to wipe away his tears; these people would only think even less of him if they saw him crying. "N-nothing," he whispered, pressing himself harder against the wall. He didn't want to talk to anyone, unless it was Bruce asking if he wanted to leave this horrible place. Why did he have to come here in the first place? It was obvious no one wanted him here.

"You wouldn't be crying if it's nothing," the man noted, offering what was probably supposed to be a comforting smile. It only made Dick shift uncomfortably, his teary eyes flitting around as if looking for escape. "You can talk to me kid."

Dick noticed him pulling out what looked like a recorder and he cocked his head to the side in confusion. The man was wearing a cheap suit and there was false kindness in his eyes. Actually, the expression on his face reminded Dick almost of…the reporters outside. Hadn't Bruce mentioned something about reporters? Dick was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to talk to them. The nine-year-old bit his lip nervously, shaking his head. All he wanted to do was be left alone; he didn't want to have to deal with anyone and their lies and mocking words. "C'mon, kid," he encouraged. "I won't bite."

"Bruce doesn't want me to t-talk to you," Dick mumbled, blue eyes piercing him. This man didn't feel safe, and it was sending shivers up the small boy's spine.

"Why not? Is he trying to hide something?" the reporter pressed, moving in closer. "Is he hurting you?"

Dick's eyes widened, and he shook his head furiously. "No…Bruce wouldn't hurt me," he said, though his voice was quiet and shaky. The man must've taken this the wrong way because his eyes glinted and he moved even closer.

"You don't have to lie to me, kid," he assured. "Bruce won't know if you say anything."

"But he isn't!" Dick insisted, voice rising an octave as frustration colored his cheeks a gentle red. "He isn't hurting me!"

"Okay…let's move on then. Do-"

"No," Dick interrupted. "I don't want to talk! I'm not supposed to!"

"Relax, it's just a few questions." The reporter was probably trying to be soothing, but that predatory look was back, and it actually scared Dick. The nine-year-old attempted to move away, but was blocked. "What about the circus; what was it like? How did you feel when your parents died?"

Dick froze, breath catching in his throat. Tears stung his eyes once again, the blue orbs becoming glassy and haunted. He couldn't hold back the sobs this time, sinking to the floor as he cried. It had only been six months since they died, not even a full year. Those words brought back all of the emotions that he had been trying so hard to get over, those fragile, newly built walls crumbling easily. He felt his heart shatter with grief as the sound of snapping wires and terrified screams filled his ears, images of broken bodies and pools of blood flashing through his mind. The reporter nervously tried to comfort the small boy, a hesitant hand reaching out to touch Dick's shoulder.

If anything, Dick's sobs only became more noticeable, and the crowd around them started to notice. Why wouldn't they stop _staring? _Dick was probably ruining everything and Bruce would be mad and send him back, but he couldn't help it. It hurt so badly, a deep ache inside of him that threatened to overwhelm him and tear him apart. He _had _to cry. He just missed them so much…

Bruce was by his side in a heartbeat, concern clear on his face. "Richard?" he asked softly, kneeling beside the tiny boy. He carefully scanned him for any injuries, but didn't see anything obvious. His navy eyes soon found the reporter nearby though; the cheap suit and recorder were a dead giveaway. "Leave," he growled, anger flashing through him. The reporter nervously swallowed, nodding furiously before melting into the crowd. Worry became the dominant emotion once again and Bruce glanced back at his ward again.

Dick could tell Bruce wasn't exactly sure what to do; this was a bit different than the normal nightmares, and the man still wasn't the best with kids, though he was getting better. So Dick took it upon himself to get the comfort he desperately needed, practically throwing himself at Bruce. His small arms wrapped themselves around the billionaire's neck in a grip that could strangle most men, burying his tear-stained face in Bruce's suit jacket. "Dick, what happened?" Bruce asked, voice border-lining on desperate. "Did he hurt you?"

Dick shook his head silently, though fresh sobs jerked their way out of his chest. "H-he asked how I f-felt when they…when they…" He wasn't able to finish, his saddened whimpers preventing that.

Bruce caught on quickly and cradled him close. What kind of idiot would ask a child that?! It had only been six months since they fell, for goodness' sakes! Dick had only just stopped having nightmares every week; it was more of every two weeks now, sometimes a month. "I miss them, Bruce," he cried, small hands tightening their grip.

"Shh, Dickie. I know it does," he hushed, voice as soft and soothing as humanly possible. He rubbed comforting circles on the boy's back, gradually turning his sobs into quieter gasps. It was a few more minutes before Dick was able to form a coherent sentence. "I'm sorry," he whispered, voice trembling.

"Why are you sorry?" Bruce was honestly confused. Mourning your parents was something he understood painfully well.

"Because I r-ruin everything," he explained, voice broken. "I l-let them…f-f-fall, a-and I messed up the party, and n-now you'll send me back to the o-orphanage."

Bruce's eyes widened in surprise and his arms tightened around Dick. "Why would you think that?" he asked, voice quiet and probing.

"Because everybody h-hates me. They k-kept calling me c-circus freak, a-and stupid, and they s-said you wouldn't want to k-keep me 'cause I'm just g-gypsy trash."

If Bruce had actually been paying attention to the people around them, he would've noticed a _lot _of awkward shuffling and shared glances. Instead, his focus was solely on the tiny boy in his arms and the deep hurt in his enigmatic blue eyes. "Dick, don't listen to any of them," Bruce responded immediately, trying hard to keep the anger out of his voice. "You've been absolutely wonderful, better than I could've ever hoped for. I would never send you back, not now, not ever. I promise, chum. I would rather die than give you up."

"Really?" Dick asked, a small glimmer of hope entering those baby blues.

Bruce offered a gentle smile, hugging him tighter. "Really," he confirmed. Dick relaxed, though the tears on his face were still painfully obvious. Bruce stood, still carrying the nine-year-old in his arms. "How about we leave early?" he asked, murmuring the words softly into Dick's ear. Dick nodded, snuggling into his chest. "Okay," he agreed softly. He allowed his arms to loosen their grip on Bruce's neck as they walked out; Bruce wasn't going to leave him, after all. He had promised.

And if there was one thing Dick had learned while at the manor, it was that Bruce kept his promises.

* * *

**A/N **Someone also mentioned doing something light-hearted and more humorous again; I'll try to do that next, don't worry. ^^ This idea just hit me first. Sorry again for taking so long; I can't make any promises on when I'll next update, but hopefully it won't be this late again.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	40. Christmas

**A/N **I feel absolutely awful for taking this long to update; you guys have been absolutely amazing, and definitely don't deserve to be left waiting that long. I was just busy, and then had some pretty bad writer's block...I'm so sorry! I actually had to force myself to write this chapter. But here is a Christmas chapter, just for you guys. It's all of the Christmas's Dick has spent in the manor up to when he was thirteen; enjoy the fluff! ^^

**Disclaimer** I own nothing but a Christmas tree.

~Aiva

* * *

"_Dashing through the snow, in a one-horse open sleigh…" _Dick sang, voice echoing through the high ceilings of the manor. He grinned as he heard Alfred join in, the older man humming along to the upbeat song. _"O'er the hills we go, laughing all the way!" _he continued. He absolutely loved this time of year. There was something about it that just made him _happy, _granting him a smile that refused to leave until Christmas was long gone and past. The only thing he hated was the fact that his parents weren't here to share that with him anymore…he could still easily remember them curled up underneath a patchwork quilt in their trailer, laughing and exchanging small (often homemade) gifts as hot chocolate heated up on the tiny stove. His mom would sometimes read a Christmas story or two, often in Romani. Auntie Karla would end up serving the cocoa, making sure Dick got some first despite Uncle Rick trying to get a taste. His dad would ruffle his hair as John would tell some sort of joke to get Dick to laugh.

Dick faltered in his singing, blue eyes becoming distant. He missed them, those little moments they all shared. It didn't feel right without them and suddenly the manor felt far too big and far too empty. A small sniffle slipped out, making Alfred pause as well. "Master Dick, are you quite alright?" he asked.

Dick looked up with tear-filled blue eyes that held far too much sadness for one so young. He was only nine for goodness' sakes! "I just…I miss them," he whispered, voice grieved and empty. It was his first Christmas without them…how could he have forgotten that? It weighed so heavily on him now and suddenly Dick wished that it wasn't even Christmas. It _hurt._

Alfred frowned, pausing in his cleaning. The Ming vase was as good as it was going to get anyway. He had kept his distance when Master Bruce was going through this same type of thing and…well, you could see how _that_ turned out. He was determined to make sure Dick remained a bright and happy child. That was why the British butler found himself hugging the nine-year-old gently. "It'll be alright, Master Dick, you'll see," he assured softly.

Dick just buried his face in his suit, a small sob slipping out. "Why?" he asked, the question holding so much pain it would break anyone's heart. "Why did they have to leave? They should be here. I want them back, Alfred…"

Alfred had honestly no idea what to do. How do you comfort someone who had lost everything dear to him in one horrible instant? The horrible truth is you don't; there's nothing anyone can do, because no one can bring them back. So he just held Dick close, the small boy shaking with sobs.

* * *

The ten-year-old stared out the window, warm breath making the window fog up. His blue eyes were big and a wide smile graced his face. He was practically bouncing, giggles escaping him. The laughs were clear and high, like the chime of bells. "Bruce!" he shouted. _"Bruce!" _

The billionaire was there in a heartbeat, his expression resembling something like alarm. "Dick, what is it? Are you hurt? What happened? Do-"

Dick interrupted him with another sweet giggle, racing over to grab his hand and tug him closer to the window. He pointed in excitement as he explained. "It's _snowing!" _he cried, unable to restrain himself any longer as he flipped and cartwheeled around the room.

Bruce relaxed considerably upon hearing this; it wasn't often Dick would call for him and he had been sincerely worried that something had happened to the boy. He couldn't stop the small chuckle that came out as he watched the small acrobat bound around the room gracefully. Snow was common in Gotham and he didn't really pay much attention to it. He had almost forgotten Dick wouldn't have seen much of it before; the circus would usually move to warmer areas during the winter and he had still been too depressed to fully enjoy it his first Christmas at the manor. It was almost…refreshing to see someone so excited about something so simple. Dick was practically glowing with childish, innocent joy: it was infectious.

"Can we go outside? Please, Bruce?" Dick begged, stopping for a moment to give the billionaire a hopeful grin. His dark hair was messy and windblown and his cheeks were flushed from excitement; Bruce thought it was physically impossible for him to say no.

"Of course, chum," he smiled. Dick cheered, racing out the door as he yelled out for Alfred, asking where his coat was.

Bruce followed, albeit at a slower pace. The dark halls seemed much lighter than usual and he couldn't help but think that this year, Christmas might actually be different. After his parents died, he hadn't really celebrated any holidays. He didn't see the point anymore. Dick was different and the change was welcome. Maybe that's why he soon found himself locked in a snowball fight outside, Dick managing to dump snow down his jacket. Bruce smiled despite the chill. Yes, Christmas was very different this year.

* * *

Dick was eleven this year and was helping Alfred make cookies in the kitchen. The scent of gingerbread hung sweet and warm in the air and he would occasionally burst out in different Christmas songs, depending on what was stuck in his head at the moment. He paused in his version of the First Noel (in Romani) when Bruce walked in, looking slightly awkward. His hands were behind his back and Dick cocked his head curiously. "Bruce?" he asked, clearly confused. He could something was different, but he wasn't sure what. Alfred, however, had a merry twinkle in his eye, seeming happier than he had been in a while.

"Dick, I…have something…to ask you," Bruce began awkwardly. It was painfully obvious he had no idea how to phrase whatever came next, so he cleared his throat.

"What is it?" Dick prompted, head tilting even farther to the side in a questioning way.

"Er…well…" Bruce rubbed the back of his neck.

"Oh for goodness' sakes," Alfred muttered, just barely managing not to roll his eyes. "What Master Bruce is _trying _to do is ask if you would like to be adopted."

"Adopted?" Dick's voice was a high squeak, cracking over the word.

"I know I can never replace your parents," Bruce interjected hastily. "But it's been two years since I've taken you in as my ward and Alfred was thinking-" A sharp look from the butler made him amend those words. _"I _was thinking you…might like the idea. I understand if you don't want to, of course," he added quickly, not wanting the boy to think it was mandatory. He would hate to force that upon Dick.

Speaking of Dick…the eleven-year-old looked conflicted and confused, expression frozen. His blue eyes were a bit wider than normal, and his lips were parted slightly. You could practically hear the gears turning in his head and it wasn't difficult to see the emotions play through his eyes. He opened his mouth, then hesitated. Bruce's heart sank; he had just ruined everything, he knew it. This had been a bad idea from the start, why would-

His thoughts were interrupted by a pair of small arms wrapping themselves around his waist in a strong hug. "Thank you, Bruce," he mumbled, the words muffled. His voice sounded almost like he was crying so Bruce hugged him back, unsure whether Dick was actually happy or not. His fears were wiped away completely by the next few words. "I would really like that," the acrobat whispered.

Because his parents would want him to do this. He could practically hear their voices in his mind; his mom would kiss the top of his head and tell him to do what his heart told him while his dad would ruffle his dark hair, smile, and say 'of _course _he should do it, because every boy needed a father and it wouldn't change the fact that I'm still your dad'. His uncle would just laugh and say 'go for it' while his Auntie Karla would assure him they'd be there for him no matter what he chose. His older cousin John would shake his head and tease him for being adopted by a_ billionaire_ of all people, but would tell him to do it just the same. Because Dick deserved to have some sort of family if they weren't there. 'He can be an honorary Grayson!' John would say with a grin.

Bruce wouldn't ever replace his dad – that would never change – but adoption sounded pretty good. Dick hadn't fully realized how much he missed being part of a real family until now so he hugged Bruce even tighter, memories of his family whispering words of encouragement in his ear. This was his best Christmas at the manor by far.

* * *

Dick forced his smile to go away, his trademark puppy dog eyes taking its place. He held a slightly battered book of Christmas carols in his hand as he walked up the Bruce. "Bruce?" he asked softly, voice already sad and pleading.

Bruce could feel his muscles stiffen; this couldn't be good. He risked a small glance downward and immediately regretted it. How that boy could manage to look so pitiful was beyond him; Bruce swore those blue eyes could make even a coldhearted murderer change his ways. "Will you go caroling with me?" Dick asked quietly, keeping his tone as dejected as possible.

"No," the billionaire said immediately. It was already past dark and criminals were sure to be prowling the streets by now. There was no way he was letting Dick out in that without his Kevlar uniform and plenty of tech to protect the twelve-year-old.

"Whhyyyy?" Dick asked, drawing the word out as long as he could, voice trailing off pitifully.

"Because it's too dangerous," Bruce responded without hesitation.

Dick's nose crinkled in confusion. "I don't see how _Christmas caroling_ is dangerous," he argued.

"Going from door to door is not a good idea in Gotham," Bruce explained. "Especially at night."

"But you let me swing off of rooftops every night as Robin!"

"Robin can protect himself. Dick Grayson can't."

Dick's face lit up as an idea struck him. "Then we can go caroling as Batman and Robin!" Seeing his adoptive father about to protest further, he quickly continued. "That way we'll be safe and we can still go!"

Bruce looked into those big blue eyes, sighing internally. "…Fine," he agreed grudgingly. "But we aren't doing it in Gotham." It was still dangerous and there was no way he would ever live it down if the local criminals got wind of it. As Dick cheered, Bruce struggled to think of a city that didn't have a hero (he still had a reputation to maintain, after all) and was still safe.

The citizens of Happy Harbor would never forget the day they opened their doors to find Batman and Robin singing "Deck the Halls".

* * *

Dick practically bounded into the Batcave, adding in a somersault just for fun. Before he could say anything, Bruce interrupted. "We are not going caroling again," he stated firmly.

Dick frowned, almost pouting. "I didn't even get to ask anything and that wasn't what I was going to say anyway," he grouched. "I was going to ask-"

"Dick, I'm busy right now," Bruce sighed, not even looking away from the file open on Batcomputer screen.

"But it's important!" the thirteen-year-old argued.

Sensing he wasn't going to give it up anytime soon, Bruce decided it would just be easier to listen to what the kid wanted. "Fine. What is it?" he asked.

"I want you to put the star on the tree," Dick blurted quickly. He may have technically been a teenager (Bruce didn't really like to think about that – what happened to nine? Or ten?) but the hopeful light in his blue eyes made him look so much younger. Bruce, once again, found himself unable to say no. As soon as Bruce's head started to nod Dick was pulling him up into the manor, excitedly talking about how great the tree looked and how he had helped Alfred decorate it. Walking into the room where the tall pine stood, Bruce had to admit that it _did _look nice. No, nice wasn't the right word; it was amazing. The whole thing seemed to sparkle and glow, the lights glinting off tinsel and ornaments in an impressive display.

"Asterous, huh?" Dick grinned. He handed Bruce the star, the graceful network of wires and metal glittering from the light radiating off of the Christmas tree. Bruce took it carefully, climbing up the step ladder so thoughtfully placed nearby to stick the star on the very top. He couldn't help but smile as he did, the expression becoming more noticeable when he stepped back down and Dick threw his arms around him in a big hug. The thirteen-year-old had never actually gotten to see a star put on a tree; in the circus, they had never had the time or money to buy one and Alfred had always done it in the recent years. There was no one he'd rather share the moment with.

"Merry Christmas, Bruce."

* * *

**A/N **I'll try not to take so long to update again... Merry Christmas everyone!

Reviews are greatly appeciated!


	41. Birdy

**A/N **Well...it didn't take a month. Just, you know, really close to that long. Sorry again, guys! Anyway, this is a fluffy little idea I had. Enjoy the amazingness that is Wally and Dick. ^^

**Disclaimer **I don't own this or the upcoming epside of YJ (really looking forward to it!)

~Aiva

* * *

The metal bar was cold and solid beneath his chalk-covered hands, the fingers constantly moving to adjust with his graceful movements. Dick let go completely to twist through the air, flipping in a neat circle before latching on to the bar again, the hard grip making the metal ring quietly and bounce in its frame. The ebony acrobat ignored it, used to the sounds the equipment would make when working on his routines. He just flung himself through the sky again, as weightless and free as a bird. Sweat dripped down his flushed face and made his hair clump together in slick spikes, but that didn't stop the wide grin from splitting his cheeks. His blue eyes were alive, humming with the simple joy of doing what one loved doing. He felt full of boundless energy, almost as if he could just let go and soar anywhere he wanted. Only the tug of gravity stopped him, but the burden wasn't enough to stop the bliss coursing through his veins. This was where he belonged, seeming to defy some sort of physical law as he spun and twisted, lithe body forming flexible shapes with a deceptive ease.

A small cough and the rustle of shifting clothes tore him out of his ecstatic reverie, and Dick reluctantly let go of the magic acrobatics brought to his life. He swung his legs through the air, gaining momentum before just letting go, doing a quadruple flip without a care in the world. He stuck the landing, feet thudding lightly on to the navy mats that covered the floor. Knowing there was an audience present, Dick stayed true to his circus roots, turning to raise his hands and give a tiny bow. "Thank you," he grinned. "This was purely for your entertainment, so please, feel free to applause." He was rewarded by the surprisingly loud claps of his spotter and a whistle for emphasis.

Wally finally let his hands drop, the flesh of his palm stinging slightly from so many claps. "That's pretty cool, Dick," he admitted. "Maybe you could teach me sometime."

Dick's eyes seemed to light up at the suggestion – no, his entire being lit up, radiating a glow of excited happiness. "We'll do it next time you come over," he nodded. "How about next Saturday?"

"Sounds good to me," Wally agreed with a small shrug.

"Asterous," Dick grinned. "Been a while since I've had someone to do acrobatics with, you know?"

"Who knows, maybe I'll be so good they'll start calling _me _the Boy Wonder," Wally teased, reaching out a hand to ruffle the eleven-year-old's dark hair. He frowned when he did, noticing the fact that the ebony locks were practically soaked with sweat. "May want to go take a shower, Birdy," he advised, nose crinkling up in slight disgust as he wiped his fingers on his jeans.

Dick was about to dash off to do just that when he fully registered the sentence. "Birdy?" he repeated, cocking his head in slight confusion. Where had _that _come from?

"Yeah, Birdy," Wally nodded. "You know, since you're _Robin_ and you look kinda like your flying when you're doing all of that flippy stuff. I thought it worked."

Dick mulled it over in his mind for a grand total of two seconds before another wide grin formed. "I like it," he agreed, silently repeating it in his head. _Birdy. _"Is this going to replace Dickie-bird now?" To his surprise, Wally shook his head.

"Nah, this is _our _thing. I'm going to save it for special times." With that, Wally gently nudged his shoulder, prodding him towards the door.

Dick allowed himself to be shepherded out of the room, deciding not to question it further. Who knew what went on in a speedster's head?

* * *

The next time the nickname popped up was near _the_ anniversary. Wally, knowing fully well that the date was coming up, had invited Dick over to his house in hopes of distracting his friend from the persistent painful memories. It had worked for a while, but that didn't stop the speedster from waking up at 4:27 a.m. because of Dick's panicked mumbling. The screams ripped through the air soon afterward, the occasional string of Romani interrupting the wordless wail of unbearable heartache. Wally forced his bleary eyes open, the darkness of the room throwing him off balance as he stumbled over to his best friend's side. He gathered the struggling boy into his arms, cradling him carefully and wishing there was something he could _do _other than hope that Dick would wake up soon.

He ran his fingers through the eleven-year-old's raven locks, trying desperately to offer some comfort, however slight it may be. "Shh, Dick," he hushed, rubbing his back in an attempt to wake the acrobat. "Just wake up, please wake up. You're okay, I'm here. I've got you, Birdy."

Dick let out a sharp gasp as his teary baby blues shot open and he clung to Wally instinctively, arms wrapping around the speedster's neck in a death grip. He sobbed into the older boy's shoulder, too exhausted and grieved to care about the wet spots he was leaving on Wally's shirt. Wally didn't care either, holding him even closer as he continued to murmur soft words of reassurance. "Easy, Birdy," he soothed. "It's all over now, okay?" He shifted his arms to a more comfortable position, but the movement elicited a slightly louder cry from Dick.

"Don't leave," the ebony begged, grip tightening. "Please."

Wally shushed him immediately, eyes wide as he tried to reassure his little brother. "I'm not going anywhere, Birdy. I promise. I'm right here."

Dick's sobs eventually died down until they were whimpers, which then became shuddering breaths. He still clung to Wally, the fabric of his shirt bunched tightly together in Dick's fists. "Why?" he asked, voice quiet and haunted. "They didn't deserve it…why did they have to die? Why did they have to leave me?"

"I don't know, Dick," Wally answered after a brief hesitation. "But I won't ever leave you alone."

"Promise?"

"I promise, Birdy."

* * *

The time after that, Dick was twelve and had unfortunately discovered how awful bullies could be. He hadn't been in Gotham Academy very long, after all, and was still struggling to fit in. It didn't help that he was just a 'charity case' to them, a circus brat took in to make Bruce look good. Dick knew the truth of course, but that didn't stop the words from hurting. He went over to Wally's house like planned after school, grateful Bruce was away on a meeting and couldn't see the bruise or bloodied lip. Alfred had, but thankfully the older man hadn't interrogated Dick after seeing the child's unwillingness to talk.

Wally, however, was a different story. As soon as Dick got there, the speedster noticed the ugly purple bruise and dried crimson stain, his green eyes narrowing with concern. "Dude, what _happened?"_ he asked, carefully inspecting his best friend for any more injuries. The twelve-year-old hissed whenever the probing fingers poked his arm and lower ribcage, bruises evidently there as well.

"Nothing happened," Dick answered through gritted teeth, keeping his jaw clenched. His hands were balled into tight fists at his side and he was favoring his left ankle slightly.

Wally sensed the brimming tears in Dick's upset blue eyes and gently took his arm, pulling him into his recently cleaned room. "Don't give me that crap," the teenager said firmly, forcing Dick to look at him. "Tell me what happened."

Dick's eyes dropped back to the ground, staring resolutely at the carpet fibers. After a moment he relaxed fractionally, letting out a small sigh. "Bullies," he mumbled quietly.

"What?!"

"Bullies, okay?!" Dick repeated, clenching his jaw again.

"And they beat you up?" Wally demanded, already making plans to go give these guys what they deserved for touching his best friend. Seeing the lingering hurt in Dick's eyes, the speedster's scowl turned into more of a frown. "That's not all they did though, is it?"

Dick shook his head, shuffling his feet awkwardly.

"You can tell me, Dick," Wally encouraged.

"No…it's silly."

"Dick, nothing that makes you upset will ever be silly. Just tell me, okay?"

"Okay…" Dick agreed reluctantly. "It…it was just the normal stuff, you know? Calling me a charity case, circus freak, gypsy trash. But they kept bringing up my…my parents, saying it was my fault they died." That was when the angry tears filled up Dick's eyes again, tinting their enigmatic blue depths with an upset red. "And then…they said that…Bruce doesn't even want me, 'cause I'm too pathetic to even save my own parents. They said it would've been b-better if I had f-fell with them…"

Wally didn't hesitate before pulling Dick into a tight hug. "You don't believe them, do you?" he asked, trying to put aside his anger for now. Yelling and punching a wall probably wouldn't help Dick any.

"I dunno…" Dick shrugged, swallowing hard. "I mean, what they said was kinda true. If I had just told someone I saw Zucco messing with the wires, they would still be here. And Bruce isn't even around most of the time. Maybe he doesn't really care."

"Dick, we both know that isn't true. You tried to tell them about Zucco, didn't you?" Wally barely waited for Dick's small nod before continuing. "And Bruce loves you. He may not say it, but even the League knows it's true. Besides, he wouldn't have let you be Robin if he didn't care, would he?"

"I practically forced him into that though…he didn't _want _me to be Robin," Dick argued.

"Well, he wants Robin now," Wally stated firmly. "You can't listen to what those idiots say. They don't know you, Dick. They don't know the boy who flips of furniture for fun and saves lives every night. They don't know the boy that I know, the one who smiles even when most people would have just given up. You're amazing, Birdy, and don't you ever forget it. They don't know what they're talking about."

Dick met Wally's gaze, looking a bit better. "Really?" he checked, an edge of hope in his voice.

"Really," Wally confirmed.

"Thanks, Wally."

"No prob, Birdy."

* * *

The nickname continued to appear during especially difficult times for Dick throughout his adolescence and into adulthood. After the failed training simulation, after nightmares, and after particularly grueling missions. It was special, as Wally put it, and the speedster didn't seem like he would ever give it up...

"You okay, Birdy?" Wally asked, the twenty-something-year-old raising an eyebrow as he studied his friend for any injuries.

"Fine, Wally," Dick assured, massaging his ribs. "Just some bruises." An amused look formed on his now mask-less face as he continued. "I can't believe you still use that nickname."

"What, Birdy?" At Dick's nod, Wally grinned. "I told you, it's our thing. No way am I going to stop."

"But I don't have a nickname for you like that."

"Kid Mouth doesn't count?" Wally teased. He reached out and ruffled Dick's hair, just like he had when they were younger. "I have big brother privileges, Birdy. Get used to it."

* * *

**A/N **...Yeah, I had no idea how to end this. Oh well. I'm working on filling some requests, by the way. Plot bunnies are just hard to come by recently...darn. Thanks for sticking with me despite that though. It really means a lot. :)

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	42. Injured

**A/N **This was a request from I. Love. Dick. Grayson.

**Disclaimer **I own nothing.

~Aiva

* * *

Robin coughed, a harsh wet sound that made his chest ache and sent pain ripping through his body. He curled into an even tighter ball, hand pressed firmly against his bleeding stomach. The crimson liquid seeped from in between his fingers, dripping on to the dirty rocks below. The pain made it hard to concentrate, his thoughts blurring together in a torrent of images and sensations. He was dimly aware of Kid Flash pacing beside him, muttering anxiously under his breath. "KF…" he panted. "Hurts." Because it _did, _an awful burning ache that made him want to scream.

The thirteen-year-old stopped pacing immediately, dropping to his best friend's side. "I know, Rob…" he murmured, sick feeling of panic clear in his voice. "Just…just h-hold on, okay? Help's coming; I already radioed Flash and Bats and everything."

"'Kay…" Robin whispered, unable to manage anything louder. He tensed, moaning as a fresh wave of agony crashed over him. "Hurts," he repeated, louder this time. Tears stung his eyes, threatening to escape his closed lids and domino mask.

Kid bit his lip, silently debating what he should _do. _He knew Robin had some painkillers in his belt somewhere, but he wasn't sure whether he should give them to him or not. After all, Robin had been beaten up pretty badly, and it was likely he had a concussion. If he was drugged, he might just fall asleep, and that would definitely _not _be good. _This is the last time I try to stop a drug bust in Gotham, _the speedster thought. Batman was off in another part of Gotham with Flash, dealing with a Central City rogue that had popped up and started causing mayhem in _his _city. Kid Flash had tagged along, and he and Robin had been left with strict orders to stick to random muggings _only_; nothing bigger without help. Of course, they didn't listen, even though Kid Flash was beginning to see why they should have.

As soon as they had attacked the people in charge of selling the drugs, Kid Flash had slipped and been grabbed. Robin had moved to protect him, but had been whacked in the head by one of the guys' guns. Then he had been stabbed in the stomach with a knife and whacked a few more times before the two had been shoved in the dirty warehouse basement. Unable to vibrate his molecules through anything yet, and with Robin so badly injured, they were still there.

And Kid Flash was pretty sure Robin was dying.

Already, the eleven-year-old was lying in a pool of his own blood, the metallic scent filling the air and making Kid Flash want to gag. Robin let out another moan through gritted teeth, forcing the speedster to act. Shakily, Kid reached out and he carefully removed the yellow utility belt from around Robin's waist, not touching the ugly wound. He rummaged through the pockets with a desperate energy before stumbling on what he was looking for; a syringe, filled with the painkillers. He uncapped it, exposing the needle before plunging it into Robin's arm.

Almost immediately, the small bird relaxed a little, no longer curled up quite as tightly. "Th-thanks…" he gasped out. Then he realized how tired he was. The darkness was so welcoming, so painless…

"No, Rob! You've gotta stay awake, okay?" Kid Flash's voice was desperate, pleading with the injured acrobat. It didn't take a genius to hear the unspoken words; _If you don't, you might never wake up again. _Refusing to even speak of such a possibility, he instead continued with, "If anything else happens to you, Batman will _kill _me."

"But…'m sleepy…" Robin mumbled. "An' it hurts." His words hadn't been very clear before, but they were slurring even worse now, and that definitely made Kid Flash worried.

"I know, Robin. You can sleep when help comes, but you gotta stay awake until then. Please try," Kid Flash pleaded.

"'M'kay," Robin agreed, albeit reluctantly. There was a few seconds filled with nothing but the sound of his wheezing, rasping breaths. "KF…am I…am I gonna die?" he asked, the words small and barely audible.

Honestly, Kid Flash didn't know how to answer. Robin had already lost a lot of blood and considering their conditions, his wound could easily become infected. There was a very real chance that he might not make it. But there was no way on earth the speedster was going to say that. It was bad enough he was thinking it. So he ran his red-gloved fingers through his friend's ebony locks comfortingly, gently moving Robin's head into his lap. "You'll be fine, Rob. As long as you stay awake, you'll be fine."

"Promise?"

"Of course I promise," Kid Flash answered. "Why else would I have said it?"

That won a small smirk from the eleven-year-old that was trying so hard to stay strong. But that quickly turned into a grimace again as he buried his face in Kid's legs, clutching his stomach even harder as he tried to escape the pain. "Shhh, Rob. I've got you," the ginger assured gently, continuing to comb through Robin's hair in a soothing, big-brother way. "But we need to bandage and clean the cut, okay?"

"No!" Robin practically shouted, voice rising in panic. He knew he probably needed it, but all his mind could process was how _bad _it would hurt. First there was the fact that they would have to touch it in the first place, something that would definitely bring fresh torment for his already aching body. Then the antiseptic would definitely burn, making it seem like the wound was on fire…Robin definitely didn't want to have to go through that right now.

Alarmed, Kid Flash hastily nodded. "Okay, okay," he agreed. "I won't touch it."

Robin relaxed, but only fractionally. Darkness was starting to swarm in front of his vision again, and he knew that probably wasn't good. He felt sluggish and tired, his limbs and eyelids heavy. "KF…gonna…fall asleep," he warned.

"Just hang on, Rob," Kid Flash repeated, attempting to push away his rising panic again. _What would Uncle Barry do? _he silently wondered. "Keep talking," he instructed.

"Wha'…?" Robin asked, obviously confused.

"You heard me. Keep talking. It'll help you stay awake," Kid explained.

"It hurts to talk," Robin frowned.

"Do it anyway."

"…You suck," Robin mumbled.

"That's nice," Kid Flash responded automatically, not really caring _what _Robin was saying, so long as he said _something. _"Tell me exactly how much I suck."

"You're…makin' me talk…for starters," Robin panted, words still a bit slurred. "And it was…your idea…that led us here…in the firs' place."

Yeah, Kid Flash would be the first to admit that wasn't one of his brighter moments. "Sorry about that, buddy," he apologized.

"'S okay," Robin replied, before frowning again. "Sorta…"

Kid Flash couldn't help but laugh a little at that, though the small chuckles quickly died off as Robin moaned yet again. Talking could only distract him for so long, after all. "Got…any more…painkillers?" the eleven-year-old asked hopefully, sounding exhausted.

Kid Flash regretfully shook his head. "Sorry, Rob. I used it all."

If Robin were older, he would probably be cursing right now. Since he was only eleven, he instead groaned again. "When…are they…comin'?" he gasped out.

"Soon, Rob. I'm sure they're on their way." As if by magic, the door to the dark basement opened and Flash and Batman came rushing in.

"What. Happened?" Batman growled immediately upon seeing the state of his protégé.

"We…we tried to stop a drug bust on our own. I messed up, and Robin got hurt. Sorry," Kid Flash explained, voice small. Sensing Batman was going to say something else, he continued. "But your stupid lecture can wait! Rob's _hurt _and he needs help."

Batman's eyes narrowed, but he moved over to Robin and carefully gathered the boy into his arms. Kid Flash shakily stood and was soon wrapped in the comforting embrace of his uncle. "You okay, Kid?" he asked, warm voice concerned. Mutely, the ginger teen nodded.

"Batman to Watchtower. We need immediate transport to the Med Bay," Batman said into the comm piece in his ear. The four were soon enveloped in yellow light as the zeta beams whisked them up into the orbiting satellite.

Once there, Flash attempted to pull his nephew to the side so Batman could take Robin to the Med Bay, but the thirteen-year-old stubbornly refused. "It's my fault he's hurt in the first place," he argued. "I'm going to stay with him, no matter what." And stay with him he did. He was outside the operating room the entire time, and absolutely refused to leave Robin's side when the ebony got out of surgery and was recovering. He was there until the acrobat woke up, blue eyes cracking open behind the domino mask that remained on his pale gypsy face.

"Robin!" Kid Flash grinned, relieved when he noticed his friend was finally awake. "You're okay!" He enveloped the small boy in a tight hug, careful not to disturb the wires and IV.

"I'd be…a lot more okay…if I could breathe," Robin gasped out.

"Oops. Sorry," Kid Flash apologized, letting go quickly.

Ignoring the dull pain that still lingered, Robin frowned when he noticed the dark shadows underneath the speedster's eyes, just barely showing through the eye-holes in his mask. "Have you been here the whole time?" he asked in slight disbelief.

"Well, yeah…why wouldn't I have been?" Kid Flash asked, cocking his head to the side in confusion. "We're best friends. I wasn't going to leave your side until I knew you were okay."

"Thanks, KF," Robin grinned.

"No problem. Oh, Batman said to tell you that he had to go on this League mission. He didn't want to, but apparently they really needed him or something," Kid Flash repeated, settling himself into a more comfortable position on the bed Robin was in.

Robin frowned, obviously disappointed to hear this. "Do you know when he'll be coming back?" he asked.

"No," Kid Flash answered. "Hey, but cheer up! You still have me!" he added with a wide grin.

Robin smiled again and rolled his eyes. "Yep, the same dork that got me in this bed in the first place," he responded.

"You know you love me," Kid Flash grinned, leaning back on the bed.

"KF? Shut up and let me sleep," Robin replied, closing his eyes. That didn't stop his smile from growing bigger though.

Kid Flash laughed. "You got it, buddy."

* * *

When Batman finally _did _get back from the mission he had been forced to go on, the first thing he did was go and check on his ward. He was met with a rather adorable sight.

Kid Flash had pulled Robin into a hug, one arm wrapped around the younger's shoulder. Robin, in turn, and snuggled into the embrace, curled into a ball with his head resting on the speedster's chest.

If Batman wasn't…well, _Batman _he might have 'awww-ed' at the sight. As it was, he pulled a small camera out of his utility belt and took a quick photo, silently promising himself to show the picture to Alfred.

* * *

**A/N **I don't think the first part was all that bad, but it got worse at the end... I'll probably end up re-doing this, I just wanted to get _something_ posted.

I'm really sorry about how long it's taking me now. I feel awful for making you guys wait, but inspiration is a bit more difficult to come by now, and I'm trying to work on Victim. So updates will probably be a bit sporadic for a while. I won't be putting this story on haitus or anything...it may just take a while for me to update each time. I really do feel awful about it, and I'm really sorry.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	43. Second Chances

**A/N **This came from the thought of giving people second chances. And the fact that Robin is adorable. Anyway, it's for Anonymous Fellow, who asked to see Robin comforting someone else. I'll probably do a more angsty piece going along with that prompt later too, but for now...you guys really deserved an update. ;)

**Disclaimer **I don't own Young Justice. Oh, and any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

~Aiva

* * *

A slight breeze ruffled his dark hair, its brisk fingers tugging at his deep black and canary yellow cape. The ten-year-old smiled, enjoying the tingles the wind sent across his face. He briefly closed his eyes, the white lenses of his domino mask narrowing to mimic the motion. A soft rustle next to him broke him out of his evanescent trance and Robin was quickly tugged back to the matter at hand. He grinned sheepishly up at Batman, whose lips twitched in the barest ghost of a responding smile. "So…we ready?" the Boy Wonder asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Stakeouts were fun for the first little bit, but they quickly became boring, and adrenaline was now humming through every vein and muscle.

"Are we ready," Batman corrected, almost out of habit. Robin could speak English incredibly well at this point; in fact, most would never guess it wasn't even his first language. But he couldn't help but correct the boy's grammar from time to time; he wasn't about to let his protégé sound like some undereducated moron.

"Sorry. _Are _we ready?" Robin asked, rolling his eyes good naturedly as his grin grew.

"No. Keith Sleiver has only just arrived; I want to see who the buyer is first."

Robin let out a small huff, the exasperated breath blowing a stray strand of ebony hair out of his face. He allowed himself to sink back down to the concrete roof they were situated on, leaning carefully on the gargoyle next to him as he swung his legs out over the edge, feet tapping absently on the wall of the tall building. He scanned the alleyway it looked over with fading interest; exactly _when _would this buyer arrive? Because despite the _lovely_ view of the trash-filled, graffiti-covered alley, this stakeout was definitely getting to the 'being bored' part.

He soon shot up again though as another figure came into view, emerging cautiously from the clingy shadows. He was dressed in what could be a nice suit – which practically screamed "rob me!" – that looked well-worn; the sleeves were no longer the neat line they once were, some frayed strings escaping, and the fabric itself seemed to be a tiny bit faded. It didn't help that the jacket seemed to be about an inch too short for the man wearing it; he tugged on the hem nervously with one hand every now and then, the other hand stuck firmly into his pocket. Robin studied him carefully. If this was their buyer, he was definitely new to the drug rings. He didn't have the hollow cheeks, empty eyes, and air of hopelessness that other buyers had…he just seemed a little sad. And lost.

Robin's eyes narrowed fractionally and he glanced up at Batman questioningly. His mentor nodded, his chin barely dipping at all, but it was enough. The Boy Wonder checked to make sure his grapple was secure before swinging down into the alley, the rush eliciting a loud, cheerful laugh. Immediately, Keith – a member of the drug ring – pulled out his gun and tried to back away. The buyer jerked guiltily, looking almost like a school kid caught cheating on a test.

Robin knew his role; he was going to take down the buyer while Batman defeated the one in charge of this awful sale. His light giggle turned into more of a cackle, the laugh enough to send chills down most people's spine. It seemed to work, because the man flinched away, his face looking as white as a sheet in the few rays of wan moonlight that found a way through the layer of Gotham smog. "P-please," the man stuttered out. "I-I'm sorry. I d-didn't-"

Robin paused, birdarang held loosely in his gauntleted hand. "You're new to this, aren't you?" he asked, a confident smirk clear on his face.

The man nodded hastily. "Y-yes, I am. I-I've never done this b-before. …I-I don't know why I'm doing it n-now."

Curiosity was definitely one of Robin's fatal flaws, and he had always considered himself a fairly good judge of character. He could tell this man wouldn't attack him and he was interested in what his motives were. "Why aren't you at home then?" Robin enquired, tilting his head to the side quizzically.

The man shook his head. "M-my co-worker s-said this would be good for me." Apparently realizing the oddly terrifying child wasn't going to hurt him without reason, his stutter relaxed just a little bit. "I…I wanted an escape."

"Well, what are trying to escape from?"

The man narrowed his eyes in confusion. "…Why d-do you care?" he asked eventually.

Robin may have watched his entire family fall to their deaths only about two years ago, effectively destroying his childhood, but that didn't change the fact that he still _was_ a child. He was only ten years old, after all. And while he was often mature past his age, he still had that childlike view of the world. So he didn't hesitate in saying the first thing that popped into his head. "Because I'm a hero. And heroes help people, right? That doesn't just include beating up criminals, you know." He was pretty sure Batman wouldn't approve of him doing this, but Robin could just tell that this man didn't need to be sent to jail. He needed something else. Besides, Batman was occupied at the moment; apparently, Keith Sleiver had friends. The Dark Knight could handle it easy, but it meant Robin had a few minutes to talk.

The man considered this for a moment before letting out a small sigh. "You're a good kid," he muttered, the tremor in his voice gone now. He looked up to meet the young vigilante's masked gaze. "Okay. First off, I'm losing my job as soon as the month's over. My wife is sick and I'm barely able to provide for her and my little boy as it is. She's also expecting. There's no way that we're going to be able to afford to have another baby, and I'm not even sure that it's my child either. We're low on money, in debt, and my wife is considering getting a divorce with me and taking custody of m little boy, Trevor." His chin quivered a little bit and Robin stared at him for a moment before doing the first thing that came to his mind.

The ten-year-old stepped forward and gave the man a hug. It was a quick squeeze that barely lasted three seconds, but it was enough to leave the man blinking in confusion. "What was that for?" he asked, taking a step back.

"You needed a hug," Robin shrugged, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "Listen…what's your name?"

"L-Lewis Raymond."

"Well, Mr. Raymond, I promise things will work out somehow. I…haven't had the easiest life either, and at first I felt like my world was falling apart piece by piece." Robin could see Lewis nodding along. "You just have to remember not to give up. It's darkest before the dawn, but just 'cause it's dark doesn't mean that the sun won't rise eventually." He smiled for a second. "My mom would say that to me whenever I was upset. But it's the same thing for you. Giving up like this is only gonna make things worse; trust me. You just gotta go back and focus on those little good parts of life, because they're there. You just have to look for them." A pause. "Have you ever actually purchased any drugs or illegal stuff?" he asked.

The man shook his head immediately and Robin grinned. "Well, I can't really arrest you then, can I?" he pointed out with a small wink and a wide smile.

Lewis' face lit up some, muscles going slack with relief. "Tha-" he started.

"Don't thank me," Robin interrupted. "I'm just happy you didn't make a _really _big mistake. Go home and be with your family; be happy. I'm sure you'll find another job before the baby comes. Oh – and tell the mom I said congratulations." The Boy Wonder's face took on an almost reminiscent look. "I used to want a younger brother, you know. Trevor's lucky to get one. I'm sure he'll be a great big brother."

Lewis nodded and Robin continued. "You should probably get out of here before Batman finishes though; sometimes he can forget that even criminals can have a human side too. Bye, Mr. Raymond!"

"Bye…Robin…" Lewis responded, a bit dazed as he took the brightly colored young hero's advice. He had just disappeared when Batman landed the last punch, knocking out the last of Keith Sleiver's lackeys. Robin grinned up at his mentor when he neared and one of the Dark Knight's eyebrows rose ever so slightly.

"What happened to the buyer?" he queried.

"Oh, he got away," Robin answered, though the wide grin on his face said a bit differently. Batman didn't demand that he tell him exactly what had transpired; if Robin wanted to keep it to himself, he trusted the boy's judgment. He couldn't help but feel a bit confused at why Robin asked his next question once they had left:

"So…do you think there are any job openings in Wayne Enterprises? 'Cause there's this one guy, Lewis Raymond, who you should _totally _hire…"

* * *

**A/N **Yep, Lewis was soon hired by Wayne Enterprises and the steady income meant his relationship with his wife improved too. They are now a happy family with a new baby girl he named Robin. ^^ ...If any of you were interested, anyway. Sorry if this is a bit OOC...I wasn't sure, but I couldn't stand to make you guys wait any longer.

Thanks for sticking with me as I took forever (again) to update. Really sorry about that...

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	44. Paternal

**A/N **What's this? An update? Yup! ^^ It's just a quick little thing I typed up, but it's still a new chapter. ;)

**Disclaimer **If I owned Young Justice, no fan would have to fear the possibility of there being no season 3.

~Aiva

* * *

Bruce tapped quietly away into the Batcomputer, navy eyes narrowing as they carefully studied the open file. Joker had recently escaped Arkham, yet it was far too quiet in Gotham. The clown would normally be running around and causing his twisted mayhem at this point…unless he was planning something big. The Dark Knight resisted the urge to growl, instead sighing and running a hand through his short dark hair. There was no way Dick would be accompanying him on this mission; the boy far too young to deal with one of Joker's big schemes. Even _Bruce_ didn't want to deal with those. The Two-Face incident had been bad enough… He could still remember it clearly, the unwelcome images flashing through his mind.

Dick, body broken and bruised, blood trickling from his mouth as he lay prone on the ground, too injured to do anything but let out a small, almost inaudible whimper when Bruce finally gathered him into his arms. Dick lying on the medical table in the Batcave, looking so small and fragile behind all the bandages and monitors. Bruce could still hear it too; the pathetic, strained cry that escaped from the child's throat and the snap of bones when he was hit, Dick screaming and panting as his sleeping mind turned the memory into a nightmare…

He had recovered though. They both had…mainly. Dick still had the occasional nightmare, but that was to be expected. Bruce had become much more overprotective and would have attempted to bench the kid, but Dick had quickly shown that wouldn't last very long.

Bruce was torn out of his brooding thoughts by the sound of small feet slapping the stone floor of the cave, followed quickly by a small giggle. Bruce smiled, just the sound enough to make his heart a bit lighter. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dick run up, wearing most of his Robin costume. He was missing the boots and mask, bare toes and crystal blue eyes exposed. Said baby blues glanced up at Bruce once Dick had gotten close enough, a wide grin on the boy's face.

"Whatcha looking at?" he asked, tilting his head to one side curiously, the gesture reminiscent of a confused puppy. Bruce ruffled his ebony locks affectionately and Dick instinctively leaned into the touch, letting out a small hum of pleasure.

"Just looking at a case," Bruce responded. Sensing that there was something Dick wanted to ask him though, he gave the boy a questioning glance, prompting him to speak.

Suddenly a bit shy, Dick tilted his head down, blue eyes looking up through his messy hair. "Well…I was thinking…if you didn't have any work to do…you might want to play with me?" he suggested hesitantly. He knew Bruce wasn't exactly one to 'play', but Dick really couldn't help but ask. He was a kid and just wanted to spend some time with his mentor/guardian/father-figure before he got too busy again.

Bruce knew he should probably be studying the case a bit longer; Joker's next scheme was surely important. But he also knew that it probably wouldn't fall into place for a couple more days, which meant he still had some time to figure out what the clown's plan was. Plus, all it took was a glance at the abashedly hopeful child for Bruce's heart to melt. Dick certainly had him wrapped around his finger, that was for sure. But Bruce was surprised to find that he didn't really mind. There was something so amazingly special about this child, something that actually lit up the darkness that had resided in Bruce's soul for so long. So he didn't hesitate before closing the file, allowing the screen to dim. "I would love to," he responded with a smile of his own.

Dick's face lit up like it was Christmas, head perking up and blue eyes shining. The beam on his face seemed to illuminate the entire room. He let out the small giggle that Bruce had become familiar with (and found incredibly adorable) as he took a step forward, hand darting out to tap the Dark Knight's stomach, which was the easiest for him to reach. "In that case…" Dick said, almost mischievously, "You're it!"

With that he dashed away, canary yellow and midnight black cape fluttering behind him. Dick was fast, and Bruce was grateful for the height advantage he himself had as he dropped all inhibitions and ran after the boy he had come to consider his son. "I'm going to get you!" he called out, eliciting another giggle from the lad. He did catch up after doing a lap around the cave, jumping over and around equipment in order to close the distance, and held out his arms wide to catch Dick. "I got you," he announced, closing his arms in on…thin air.

The rustle of fabric against stone caught his attention, and he looked down to catch a glimpse of a bright red tunic as Dick slid between his legs in a neat roll, bouncing into an upright position behind him. Bruce whirled around to see Dick grin.

"I've been saving that one," he beamed, proud of himself for evading his mentor.

Bruce growled and resumed the chase, but that didn't stop a smile from spreading across his own cheeks. Dick was good, he admitted it, but no one evaded _the_ Batman for long. Sure enough, Bruce soon had the tiny acrobat trapped securely in his arms. "You know what happens to little Robins who get caught?" he whispered softly in Dick's ear.

Dick attempted to suppress a giggle. "What?" he asked.

"They get tickled!" Bruce nearly roared the last word and Dick's squealing laughter, sweet and pure, rang through the cave as he was relentlessly tickled. Soon both were out of breath, panting lightly. Bruce was fully prepared to launch into another attack, but was stopped by a familiar voice.

"I do believe it is Master Dick's bed time, Master Bruce," Alfred informed, the corner of his lips curled upward into a slight smile. He did enjoy seeing the bond between the two becoming so strong.

"Aw," Dick pouted, bottom lip sticking out immediately. "Can't I stay up just a few minutes later?" His face scrunched into what was clearly an attempt at a sad expression, but it was ruined by the fact that he was fighting the urge to keep grinning.

Bruce chuckled and scooped the small boy up into his arms. "Sorry, chum," he responded, shaking his head no. Dick, surprisingly, didn't complain further, instead settling into the warm, safe arms of his guardian as he was carried up into the manor.

"Good night, Alfred!" he called out as they left the Batcave, giving the butler a smile. He was soon in his room, Bruce helping to pull off what pieces of the Robin uniform he had on and replacing them with soft pajamas, resolving to take the former back down to the cave when he was done tucking the boy in. Dick was always more willing to go to bed if he had been tucked in, after all, and Bruce was eager to do anything he could to get the hyper child to sit still and sleep.

The man carefully pulled the covers up until they were up to Dick's chin, folding the blankets in around his small body with more care and tenderness than he thought humanly possible. Dick snuggled into the warmth of his bed automatically, burying his head in the pillow. It was clear now that the child actually was sleepy, considering the fact that he kept blinking his eyes and yawning. Bruce brushed a few of his ebony locks out of his face, planting a kiss on his forehead as he handed Dick his stuffed elephant. Dick smiled sleepily, letting out a small sigh as his eyes began to drift shut.

Bruce turned out the light so the only illumination came from a small nightlight in the corner Dick had quietly requested be put in his room. "'Night, Bruce," Dick mumbled, fighting the urge to yawn again. "Love you."

Bruce paused in the doorway upon hearing the last two words. Neither had actually said those words to each other before, even though both knew it was true with all of their hearts. Hearing it out loud though was so much sweeter and Bruce found himself smiling wider than he had in…a long time. "Good night, Dick," he responded softly. He hesitated slightly. He wasn't used to showing affection, much less stating it verbally. But this boy, this precious, sweet child that he had been blessed to have, deserved to hear the words. "I love you too."

The words were a quiet whisper, but still seemed loud in the otherwise silent room. As Bruce carefully shut the door, he could just barely make out the smile on Dick's face. Bruce walked back towards the Batcave, the brightly colored tunic folded neatly in his arms. He fingered the protective material with pondering fingers, mind wandering freely. It all seemed to focus on the small boy now sleeping peacefully though. It was amazing, how much a tiny child could mean to him. Bruce knew he would give his life for Dick over and over again if it meant he could be happy, safe, and provided for.

After losing his parents, Bruce had subconsciously promised himself not to really get close to anyone else. If he was being honest with himself, it was because he was scared; scared that he would lose them and have to go through that wailing pain all over again. That had lasted for a good long while…until Dick had come along. At first, the poor child was depressed and closed off; who could blame him? He had just watched his parents died, been shoved into a juvenile detention facility, and then had been taken in by a complete stranger. But Dick started to open up soon enough and a bond had started to form, despite whatever efforts Bruce might have made to stop it, because frankly, Dick needed him.

Their bond only got stronger with the creation of Robin and the imprisonment of Tony Zucco, and it didn't take long for Bruce to start thinking of Dick as his son. He would literally do anything for the lad, no matter the cost. If it were a choice between Dick and the world, Bruce would choose Dick every single time. Bruce knew the risks of this. Especially now that Dick was part of his world, a world of heroes and villains, there was a very high chance that he could die. Bruce could lose someone all over again. But looking back, Bruce knew that any possible pain was more than worth it.

He wouldn't trade this time he had with Dick for anything.

* * *

**A/N** Yeah, as I said, quick little thing I typed up. Sorry that it's not up to my usual standard; I blame whatever I'm sick with (I swear, my immune system hates me sometimes...) Anyway, hope it wasn't absolutely awful and someone enjoyed it anyway. ^^ Thanks for sticking with me.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	45. Fallen

**A/N **It feels nice to update again. ^^ Anyway, this is a request from Jesters of the Moon, who asked for the YJ Team to watch Lion King. Plenty of angsty memories and fluffy comfort ahead!

**Disclaimer **I haven't even gotten to _watch _the most recent episode yet; there's no way I own it.

~Aiva

* * *

Robin actually had to stifle a groan when M'gann bounded into the training room with a wide smile. He set down the weights he had been working with, forcing a smile of his own on his face instead. It wasn't that he minded the presence of his teammate; it was just the opposite, in fact. But M'gann was probably asking if someone would try whatever treat she had attempted to bake, and Robin was pretty sure he was coming down with some sort of virus or bug. It wasn't bad yet, but he definitely didn't want to risk putting burnt, semi-edible food in his stomach if he _was _developing a stomach bug. That was never fun.

"Hey, M'gann. What's up?" he greeted.

"Oh…I wasn't interrupting anything, was I?" M'gann asked hesitantly, seeming to finally notice the weights and the thin sheen of sweat coating the Boy Wonder's skin.

"Nah, I was just finishing up," Robin replied easily, wiping some of the perspiration off of his forehead with the back of his hand.

"Well, Black Canary said we should do more team bonding exercises-" That last mission _had _been a bit of a disaster, heavy on the dis… "-so I thought we could watch a movie together. …If that's okay with you," M'gann finished.

Relieved he wouldn't have to stomach any more failed cooking attempts, Robin flashed her a genuine smile. "No prob. I'll be out in a bit; just give me a minute to change," he grinned, gesturing to his sweat-soaked workout clothes. M'gann beamed and nodded, feet skimming the ground lightly as she flew off, probably to go and try to talk Connor into participating.

Robin stretched a little as he walked towards the showers, knowing if he let his muscles cool off to rapidly they would just be even more sore tomorrow, which would be a pain (no pun intended). He took a few minutes to simply relish the feeling of hot water spraying against his skin, washing away all traces of exertion and grime. He put on his usual civvies after toweling his ebony hair dry, the olive green hoodie and midnight black jacket familiar and comfortable.

Finally, he slipped on his practically trademark reflective shades before stepping into the main room. It seemed M'gann had managed to gather almost everyone in there already; Kaldur sat on one end of the couch while Connor sat on the other, M'gann resting against his shoulder. Artemis was on the floor, leaning casually against the green couch while absently eating a few pieces of popcorn from the bowl next to her.

Robin plopped down on the couch in between Kaldur and M'gann, ignoring how the movement made his stomach lurch. Yeah, he was definitely coming down with something, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. "What are we watching?" he asked, glancing at the currently blank television screen curiously. Noticing an obvious lack of a certain redhead, he frowned slightly. "And where's Wally?"

"We're watching the_ Lion King," _M'gann answered brightly. "Wally said he would be coming late and to go ahead and start without him."

"Are we going to watch, or are we just going to sit and talk?" Connor asked, sounding a bit irritated. He obviously didn't want to be here; M'gann must've had to talk him into it somehow. Robin took the liberty of picking up the remote and pressing play before settling back down into the couch cushions to watch.

* * *

Wally checked his phone, groaning when he saw the time. Finishing up his science project had taken longer than he thought, especially since he had only had half a page completed in the first place. He just hoped he didn't miss any good parts of whatever movie they were watching. He stepped into Mount Justice hastily, not even waiting for the yellow light of the zeta beam to fade completely before rushing out to the rest of the Team.

He slowed enough to not trip into the couch (that was one incident he wasn't exactly eager to relive) and glanced at the screen to see what movie had been picked. Honestly, he was hoping for something with plenty of action, maybe a thriller…sci-fi would be nice too. Some of those movies were _good, _after all. Wally's emerald eyes widened with barely suppressed panic and he physically jerked in surprise when he saw the animated lion on the screen. Oh man…it was close to _that _part. The part where young Simba's father fell to his death in front of the cub's eyes. He had to get Robin out of here before he saw, especially since it was only three weeks before the anniversary. Wally silently cursed in his head; whose idea was it to watch _this _movie?!

Wally dashed over to the couch, barely hearing the Team's greetings (or sarcastic, teasing comments in Artemis' case) as he ducked down to whisper in Robin's ear, voice low and urgent. It was almost _that _part! "Rob, you gotta get out of here. Close your eyes or something, just _don't watch," _he murmured anxiously.

Robin stood immediately, sensing the urgency in his best friend's voice, but it was too late. On screen, Mufasa was falling to the ground, golden body twisting through the air with an almost sickening type of grace. He could hear Simba's agonized cry as he shouted after his father.

Robin froze and behind his dark shades, pained cerulean eyes shot wide open. Brief memories flashed through his paralyzed mind; his mother's hand, just inches away from his own small one; the dim screams of the crowd; the _snap! _of broken trapeze wires; blood pooling across the circus floor…so much blood… He didn't even really notice as he started to tremble, the shivers wracking his lithe frame.

One would think that the pain would at least be dulled after five years, but it was still so raw, an awful wailing grief that threatened to tear him apart from the inside out.

Wally jumped into action immediately, taking Robin by the wrist and leading the haunted acrobat to his room. "Don't you _dare _follow us," he growled to the rest of the Team before leaving. "I'll take care of this." Robin either didn't notice or didn't care. Scar's words managed to filter through his conscious though; "It's all your fault," the murderer whispered, the rest fading as he was tugged away.

It was true. It was all so painfully true. If he had just spoken up sooner, the Flying Graysons would still be flying today. They wouldn't have fallen. He wouldn't have been screaming out his parents' names as they thudded into the cruel ground, lifeless, like broken rag dolls. Robin felt dizzy, overwhelmed by memories and pain. Nausea swelled within him and Robin pulled out of his daze enough to glance around for a bucket or something as the door to Wally's room closed. There was nothing nearby and Wally was holding him tight, but there was no keeping it down.

Wally cringed as the front of his shirt was suddenly covered in the unattractive remains of what was once the Boy Wonder's lunch. He fought the urge to gag himself, focusing on his concern instead, because Robin looked absolutely awful. His sunglasses had slipped down far enough to reveal red-rimmed, dull eyes. His face was incredibly pale and cold sweat beaded along his forehead.

Robin pulled away. "Sorry," he mumbled, voice shaky as he wiped off his mouth with his jacket sleeve.

"Shh," Wally soothed. "Nothing to be sorry about." Because it wasn't, really, even though it would've been nice to know Robin was sick beforehand. The speedster soon realized that it was hard to comfort someone when he was covered in sick, so he carefully pulled off his shirt and grabbed a fresh one from the set of drawers. He tossed the ruined one in the corner, deciding to deal with it later. Robin was the priority right now.

He tugged the trembling, apparently ill fourteen-year-old down to sit on the bed, Wally enveloping him in a warm hug. "You alright, Birdy?" he murmured softly.

Robin shook his head mutely and let out a tiny sob that was more of a gasp than anything. He was soon crying into the speedster's shoulder though, tears coursing freely down his cheeks as his shoulders shook. He felt absolutely awful in the first place; whatever stomach bug he thought he had been developing had definitely struck full force. But it paled in comparison to the heartache that cut him like a knife.

"They…they _died," _he whispered in a broken, shaky voice. He tried to block out the memories, but was unable to, not when they had already been threatening to break through the barriers he had erected to preserve his sanity. The haunted tone made Wally tighten his grip and he rubbed soothing circles into the younger's back. "It's all m-my fault…"

"No, it isn't. You tried to tell them, Dick. You did everything you could. They wouldn't want you to blame yourself," Wally interrupted firmly. "Zucco is the only one to blame, and you helped put him behind bars."

"B-but-"

"No buts, Dickie-bird."

Robin remained silent, burying his face further into Wally's shirt as he clung to his best friend like a lifeline. Wally murmured gentle, calming words into his dark hair, running comforting fingers through the sweaty ebony locks.

"Wally, I gotta…" Robin finally mumbled, pulling away with a green tint to his cheeks. Wally wasted no time in rushing the boy over to the bathroom, rubbing his back as he threw up into the toilet. "Th...thanks," he gasped out. Tear tracks still stood out clearly on his face and Wally gathered him carefully back up into his arms.

"You want me to take you back to the manor?" he asked softly.

He could feel Robin shake his head before changing his mind and nodding. "I'm going to carry you now, okay, Birdy?" Wally didn't really wait for a response before shifting the position of Robin so he was now holding him bridal-style. Robin kept his arms firmly around the speedster's neck, face buried once more in his shoulder.

Wally actually managed to avoid the Team as he made his way to the zeta tube; he knew Robin would only feel embarrassed later. The yellow light whisked them safely away to Gotham and Wally had them at the manor within minutes. He probably could've entered through the Batcave, but forgot that in his haste. Instead, he skidded to a halt by the front door, knocking so rapidly the sound blurred into one noise. It was soon opened by a familiar British butler.

"Hi, Alfred," Wally started, "Dick watched the Lion King and then he got sick and he's already thrown up twice and-"

"Take him upstairs, Master Wally," Alfred interrupted. "I'll bring up some medicine for Master Dick in a moment."

Wally nodded, cradling the boy securely in his arms up to his room. The brightly colored walls and large bed were fairly familiar to him, considering how often he had been here. He placed Robin gently on top of the thick comforter and turned on the bedside lamp, the shaded bulb casting the immediate area in a warm yellow glow. He removed his friend's sunglasses carefully and tossed some pajamas at him. Robin – now Dick – groaned a bit as he received a face-full of p.j.s.

"Come on, Birdy," Wally murmured. "Let's get you out of these clothes." He helped a bit with the jacket and hoodie, but Dick did the rest after smacking Wally's hands lightly away.

Dick settled back into his bed, pulling the blankets around him. Zeta beam travel and moving through Gotham at a super-speed pace did _not _help his sudden dizziness any. "Thanks, Wally," he sighed quietly. Wally simply stroked the sweaty hair out of Dick's face, letting out a small hum of acknowledgement.

Alfred walked in then, carrying a small pill and a glass of water. "Take this, Master Dick, he instructed. Dick complied, swallowing it down easily. "Would you like me to tell Master Bruce to return home?"

"No!" Dick answered hastily. "No…I don't want to bother him…" Bruce would no doubt come, but he knew his guardian had been complaining about having to go to so many meetings earlier in the day, most of which were probably important. He didn't want to interrupt, not when he could probably manage on his own.

Wally knew that Alfred would probably call Bruce anyway, so he didn't say anything. He shifted positions on the bed once Alfred had left and Dick's hand shot out to grasp his sleeve. "Stay," he requested softly.

"'Course," Wally agreed, lying down next to Dick and wrapping an arm around the boy. Dick snuggled into his embrace instinctively, obviously exhausted and worn down. _He's been pushing himself too hard on patrol, _Wally noticed with a frown. Noticing how he kept fighting sleep, Wally pulled him in closer. "I'll keep the nightmares away, Birdy," he assured. Dick really needed to get some sleep if he was sick, after all.

Dick must've trusted him because he was asleep within minutes, the tear tracks still glimmering faintly on his cheeks making him seem younger somehow. Wally hummed softly, the tune reminiscent of a childhood lullaby. Soon, he allowed his eyes to drift shut too, rousing only whenever Dick would twitch or moan.

Dick didn't have any nightmares that night.

* * *

**A/N **I wasn't entirely sure how to end it, but...oh well. Hope you liked it, Jesters of the Moon!

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	46. Fire

**A/N **Whew, I managed to update at the two-week mark; I practically forced myself to sit down and write this. Between this, Victim, Beyond the Grave, and real life...updates are difficult. ;) I'll try not to make you guys wait for an incredibly long time though, especially not since Young Justice is over now...

**Disclaimer **If I owned Young Justice, there would be a third season. 'Nuff said.

~Aiva

* * *

The smoke clouded the air, covering the room in its deadly blanket. It was getting to the point where Robin almost wanted to pull out his re-breather, but he refrained; if anything, the poor children at his side needed it more. It had been a terrible accident that had caused all of this, really. A lady working the kitchen had left the old-fashioned gas stove on too long and then had left it unattended; the result had been ferocious raging fire that consumed the orphanage rapidly.

Most of the children and staff had been evacuated, but the younger kids on the upper floors had been trapped by flaming debris. Upon hearing this, Robin had leaped into action immediately. There were maybe five kids in there, ages ranging from five to nine, all of which were either paralyzed from fear or sobbing when Robin had found them. They had calmed down a little when they spotted the young vigilante, but the flames were getting really bad.

_The firefighters better put this thing out soon, _Robin panted silently, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his gauntlet. The contact left a streak of ash across the skin of his forehead, but he ignored it, focusing on the matter at hand instead.

"Robin…" one of the kids whimpered, looking up at him with a grimy tear-stained face, "I'm scared."

"I know," Robin soothed, taking the child's hand and flashing her a small reassuring smile, "But we'll be okay. All we have to do is take this door and-"

Of course, fate loved to play with him, and a fiery beam collapsed in front of their would-be exit, sending up a spray of sparks and ash. The kids shrieked and Robin sensed the panic clogging the air, as thick and dangerous as the smoke. "Guys!" he called out above the crackle of flames and fearful cries, "It's okay! We'll get out, but I need you to stay calm, okay? As long as you do that, everything will be fine."

Gradually, they started to calm down, though the youngest was still sobbing and letting out tiny whimpers. Actually, a majority of the kids were crying, even if it was now silent. Robin couldn't blame them; even if the fear didn't do it, the smoke certainly would.

The heavy black fog clouded around them, stinging and smarting, something that was obvious even through the protective white lenses of Robin's domino mask. "We're going to go this way, alright?" he called out, and was rewarded to see tiny nods here and there.

Robin trudged forward, the kids clumping around him, a few clinging to his cap anxiously. He pulled up the holographic computer on his wrist as he walked, unable to go at a faster pace due to the throng of children depending on him.

He pulled up a 3D blueprint of the building, cursing mentally when he realized there were no other available exits and he didn't have any weapons to burst through the walls anymore; he had run out after his fight with the Penguin, Riddler, _and _Poison Ivy. He had been on his way back home when he decided to help out here, assuring Batman he could handle it. Now though, he shut off the computer to reach up and press the comm. unit in his ear. "Batman?" he attempted, impatience growing as he heard nothing but static for a few seconds.

_"Robin?" _Batman answered finally, the sounds of fighting in the background just barely audible through the tiny speaker.

"I could really use some help," Robin admitted.

"_I'm on the other side of Gotham," _Batman informed. _"I got a lead on the new gang that's formed." _The gang had been a pain lately, committing a multitude of thefts, drug sales, and murders. It made sense that Batman would be tracking them down right now. But still…

"Well, how fast can you get over here? I'm all out of explosives and I'm stuck in the orphanage – which is on _fire_ by the way – with a group of kids. Definitely not whelming," Robin groaned. This situation was falling apart fast; so much for the quick rescue he had been hoping to accomplish.

"_I'll inform the firefighters. Where are you right now?" _Batman asked.

"Uh, second story. The kitchen is below us and a few hallways to the…left, I think," Robin rattled off, resisting the urge to bite his lower lip. It was a nervous tic he was struggling to overcome. "We're trapped in a room, no windows. I think only one room separates us from the outside wall though."

"_Stay there and hold on. I'm on my way if the firefighters don't act first." _With that the transmission ended and Robin turned to face the group of orphans staring at him.

"We're stuck, aren't we?" a boy asked quietly, dried tears cutting through the grime that smeared his face. He looked to be around eight or nine, with big brown eyes and dirty blonde hair.

Robin knew it would be pointless to lie. "Only for a little while," he assured instead. "Someone will come to help us soon." The corners of his lips twitched upward in a reassuring smile. Despite his attempts to calm them down, he could see that the children were beginning to panic again. It wasn't hard to guess why. Smoke filled the air, practically smothering them. Small patches of flames flickered around the room, only flickering out when Robin tossed an ice pellet on them to keep them from getting out of control; he was lucky he had some left. He had to do something to keep them distracted and relatively quiet until help could come, otherwise things would fall apart even worse than they were now. Robin had to take action quickly.

He gathered up the smallest and most panicked – a five-year-old girl with blue-grey eyes and long blonde-ish hair – in his arms comfortingly. "Hey, I just realized that you guys know my name, but I don't know yours. Mind telling me?" Robin was careful to keep his voice calm and soothing as he talked and gradually the fear clouding the air lightened just a little bit.

"I'm Kaitlyn," the girl in his arms announced, snuggling herself into his embrace gratefully. She then hid her soot-streaked face in Robin's red tunic, small hands clutching the fabric like a life-line.

"I'm Luke," the boy who had spoken before said, voice still quiet, but a bit calmer now.

A girl around Luke's age stepped closer to Robin, looking up at him with careful gray eyes. "My name's Alice," she murmured, a bit shyly. A light blush dusted her cheeks, just barely visible beneath the grime.

"Molly," a seven-year-old girl smiled, feeling a bit more at ease now. She prodded the other boy forward, who was a good head shorter than her. He had the same green eyes and brown hair though, obviously her brother. "I'm Tomas…" he answered slowly, before turning his wide gaze to stare at Robin, eyes filled with something akin to hero-worship. "You're my favorite hero," he blurted.

There was a chorus of shy agreement from the other kids at that statement, something that Robin couldn't help but smile at. "Aw, thanks," he grinned, blushing a little himself. "I have to say, you're some of my favorite kids too."

It was their turn to smile and blush, one of them – Kaitlyn, he thought – even giggling a little bit. The ceiling and walls groaned ominously then and Tomas gasped while Alice let out a small shriek. Robin frowned slightly before putting another smile on, for their sakes. "Come here, guys," he instructed. They flocked around him, Tomas hugging both his leg and his sister. Alice gave him a full out hug, wrapping her thin arms around his stomach while Luke clutched his cape. "It's getting really hard to breathe, Robin," Kaitlyn coughed.

Honestly, Robin was finding it hard to get enough oxygen too. He managed to reach his utility belt, pulling out his re-breather and putting it in the five-year-old's mouth. It was supposed to be used to filter oxygen out of water, but Robin guessed that it could be used to purify the air a bit too. It seemed to work because Kaitlyn sucked eager, grateful breaths through it. He allowed her to do so a few times, but was forced to pull it from her mouth and hand it to Tomas next.

"We'll have to take turns with it, okay?" Robin checked, glancing around to see their nods of agreement. He would take a breath from it only when everyone else had, and then they would go around the circle again until the firefighters finally got there. He just hoped that moment was soon…the temperature was steadily increasing in the room along with the amount of smoke, something that was surely not a good sign.

The ceiling groaned again and Robin looked up at it, worry creasing his brow. He glanced around, grateful to see they were at least trapped in a room with beds. He carefully extracted himself and set Kaitlyn down, pushing a few together and waving the kids over. "I want everyone to get underneath the beds," he explained. That way they would at least have some protection if the roof collapsed on them. Tomas scurried under first, dragging Molly with him. Alice, Luke, and Kaitlyn followed suit, cramming themselves underneath the beds. They were all pretty small and Robin managed to squeeze himself in what little area there was left, Kaitlyn pressing into one side and the posts of the bed digging into his other.

He was just about to pass the re-breather on again when an awful, heart-stopping splintering sound ripped through the air. There was barely time to scream before a crushing weight pressed down on the bed, soot and smoke making the air unbreathable for a good few moments before it eventually settled back down.

Robin cautiously opened his eyes to see a mass of splintered, broken wood and chunks of plaster in front of him. He was sure it was the same behind him too, he just couldn't see that. Flames choked the air too, blocked only by the thick area of wrecked debris around them. At least they were safe from being burned at the moment, even though the heat was almost unbearable in such a small area. "Is everyone okay?" he called out. He was met with a chorus of timid 'yes'es that eased the dread inside of him a little. The bed was pressing into their spines now, but at least they hadn't been skewered by wooden beams. "Good. I'm going to call out everyone's name and when you hear yours, I want you to tell me if anything is hurt at all, or if you're really okay. Alice?"

"I'm o-okay," she coughed out, a slight stutter in her voice. "Just a bit freaked out."

Robin could deal with that later. "Luke?"

"A few bruises, but I think I'm good," he responded, trying to be lighthearted but the tremor in his voice betraying him.

"Tomas?"

"I scraped my elbow, but I'm okay."

"Molly?"

"I'm fine."

"Kaitlyn?"

"I got hurt on my face a little…" she sniffled. Robin shifted his head just enough to make out a small cut on her cheek; nothing life-threatening, but sure to sting. "Well, we'll try to get you a band aid soon," Robin promised. Now that the immediate concerns were out of the way, he could take care of the shaky fear that hovered in the air.

"I know this is pretty freaky, guys, but you're doing great. Just stay calm; we'll be out of this in no time, you'll see," Robin reassured. "You'll be fine and you'll have a really cool story to tell everyone else, huh?"

"None of them got to meet Robin," Tomas added with a tiny hint of a smile.

"Exactly," Robin grinned. "Hey, what would you guys think about me coming to visit you every once in a while?"

"Oh, please?" Molly gasped, eyes wide and excited at the prospect of seeing the Boy Wonder again. Their attention successfully diverted once again, Robin nodded.

"Alrighty, then, I'll make sure to stop by soon," he agreed. A thought struck him, a perfect way to keep them distracted. "Hey, you guys want to hear a story?" he suggested. Noticing their nods of agreement, he took a breath to start, but was cut off by a slight beep from his ear. "Oops, one second, guys," he said, managing to wriggle one hand forward to press the comm. unit.

_"Robin, where are you?" _Batman demanded.

"Uh, trapped under the roof. We used the beds to block the worst of it. We're still in the same room as before," Robin answered. "Where are you?"

"_Outside. Firefighters are coming to clear out the debris. You should be out soon."_

"Yes! Feeling the aster," Robin grinned. He turned his attention back to the five kids staring at him curiously. "They should be coming to get us out any minute now," he explained.

"Oh, thank goodness. I hate it under here!" Alice blurted out, cheeks flushing with slight embarrassment a few moments later.

"It's okay; I hate it under here too," Robin smiled, trying to set the girl's nerves at ease again. It worked and she shot him a timid smile back.

It only took five minutes or so for the firefighters to arrive after that, and ten more to clear out all of the rubble pinning them down. Finally, they were out, the children transported to the ambulances and receiving oxygen and the occasional band aid here or there. Robin was offered an oxygen mask but politely refused until Batman practically forced him to take it. He was finally allowed to leave though and slipped into the Batmobile gratefully, slumping into the seat wearily. "Are you hurt anywhere?" Batman asked, glancing over at his protégé.

"Nope, I'm good. Just a few scrapes and bruises," Robin answered, struggling to suppress a yawn. He gave up and allowed his head to lean against the side of the car.

"You did a good job." From Batman, that was pretty much equivalent to a huge hug and an offer for celebratory ice cream.

Heart warmed by the praise, Robin smiled and allowed his eyes to drift shut, stiff muscles finally relaxing.

* * *

**A/N **Since someone asked once, somewhere; no, I will not stop writing this or any of my other stories because Young Justice is over. I definitely wish it hadn't been cancelled because frankly, it was one of the only quality shows Cartoon Network has ever had, but I'm not giving up on the fandom completely. So I'll keep updating and writing; YJ's memory has to live on somehow, after all. ^^

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	47. Complicated

**A/N **I feel kind of ashamed. So sorry for taking so long to update; I had writers' block for a while on top of everything else. I made this chapter extra long though, just for you guys. I know that doesn't really make up for the wait, but it's the best I can do. I'll try not to let you guys go that long without an update again.

**Disclaimer **We'd have a season 3 by now if I owned Young Justice.

~Aiva

* * *

Dick's gaze strayed over to the green couch, landing on the two figures sitting there. His face lit up a little upon recognizing Wally, and he walked closer, leaning over to rest his arms casually on his best friend's head. "Hey, Walls!" he greeted brightly. "We still on for tonight?"

Wally's brow furrowed, looking only slightly guilty as he responded. "Ooh, sorry, Dick. I promised Arty we'd go catch a movie tonight," he apologized, gesturing to the blonde nestled up at his side.

Dick really was happy for Wally and Artemis to finally be dating. He had been their biggest supporter from the get-go, after all. So it wasn't that he was _jealous _or anything. But tonight was _their _movie night. It was a tradition formed way back when Dick had finally revealed his secret identity to the speedster; every third Friday night of the month, the two would get together and watch a movie, possibly spend the night, and just generally hang out. Of course, there were the times when of them had to reschedule for unavoidable reasons, or the even rarer occasion when they had to cancel completely. They would always make up for it with an extra-long movie marathon next time, or a huge video game competition the next time they saw each other though.

This was completely different. Wally could've easily said that he was busy tonight; Dick _knew _Artemis would be okay with that. Instead, it was like the speedster had completely forgotten about the whole thing, like it wasn't something special that they had enjoyed for _years. _It irritated Dick, frankly; he had never done something like that, not even in the brief times he had been dating someone.

Artemis seemed to pick up on some of Dick's sudden darkened mood and frowned. "We can do it another night if you guys wanted to do something," she interjected, giving her oblivious boyfriend a look.

"No, it's okay," Dick responded immediately, noticing Wally's continued confusion. He really didn't remember. Dick made a special effort to clear any negativity out of his tone or body language, forcing his expression to be cheerful again, like nothing was the matter. That was something he, sadly, had plenty of experience doing. "We weren't doing anything." _Apparently. _Not wanting to launch into any real conversation right now, he pretended to get some type of message over the comm. unit in his ear. "Well, Gotham calls. See you guys later." He vanished into the zeta tube, Wally's murmured comments and Artemis' chuckles echoing behind him.

Glad he was already in his costume, Dick took the opportunity to simply sit and brood. …Batman must really be rubbing off on him if he actually _wanted _to brood. Generally, he hated sitting still and stewing in his own thoughts like that. He would normally just exercise to work out any frustration he might be feeling at the time. But there were those few exceptions, and this was one of them.

The young vigilante pulled out his grappling hook and aimed it up at one of the fire escapes conveniently nearby. From there he flipped up on to the roof, the movements as graceful as ever. He settled on to the dirty concrete with a sigh, allowing his legs to dangle off as he simply stared out over the city. He couldn't believe Wally would just forget about their movie night! They had been planning to do it at the manor too, where they could watch it on the giant screens, and then simply pass out and sleep in the soft, cushy chairs in there. It wasn't often they had time to spend the night anymore either. He thought Wally had been looking forward to it…apparently not.

"I'm not jealous," Dick insisted quietly under his breath. Because he honestly and truly wasn't, despite the evidence stating otherwise. He was happy for the two of them, but he had a right to miss his best friend…right? It made sense.

Dick was sure Wally didn't mean to forget that tradition though. Maybe he just didn't view it as incredibly important anymore, since they _had _done it so many times already. He probably just got caught up in the excitement that came from going on dates as a new couple; they had only been dating for a few weeks now, which seemed a lot shorter considering the fact that there were other things that got in the way of them seeing each other. Yeah, that made sense. Surely Wally wouldn't forget again as soon as that ecstatic feeling wore off just a little.

* * *

Dick was wrong. Things never got better, only went further downhill. Anytime Dick and Wally would hang out, Wally could never resist from mentioning Artemis in some way or another. Dick was sure he knew Artemis better than the archer herself did by that point, considering how often he had to hear about her. Okay, maybe it wasn't _that _bad. But he swore if he heard one more description of a conversation they had, or a mention of exactly how well Artemis knew Wally, Dick was going to hurt somebody.

Did Wally suddenly think Dick didn't know him well anymore? Dick was best friends with the speedster before either of them had ever known Artemis even existed. It was honestly very frustrating to hear "She knows me so well" _all _the time, _anytime _Dick tried to talk to Wally about something special between just them. Dick knew him too, practically as well as he knew himself! How had Wally _forgotten_ that? Why did Wally keep implying that Artemis suddenly knew him better? Because that's exactly what it felt like.

But the most annoying thing is that whenever he tried to join in on a conversation, or tried to spend a few moments with his best friend, practically his older brother, Wally would inevitably tease him about being jealous. Artemis would sometimes join in too. Dick knew they didn't mean any harm by it, but that didn't change the fact that it was so frustrating. He wasn't jealous! He was perfectly fine with them spending time together and being in a relationship that seemed to be going along so well. Was it so wrong that he just wanted to spend some one-on-one time with Wally too though, _without _any mention of Artemis? He loved Artemis as a teammate and friend, of course, and that wasn't about to change. But she didn't need to be brought into _every single conversation._

Dick didn't show any of this though. He knew he couldn't, not ever. It was probably stupid for him to feel this way anyway, and Wally would be sure to accuse him of being jealous and being a bad friend, something that Dick did _not _want under any circumstance. He almost wished Wally would pick up on what he was feeling though. Wally _was _supposed to be his best friend; his pseudo-brother, if you will. He was supposed to notice those types of things, but it seemed like he never did anymore. There was a time where Dick couldn't be upset without Wally noticing, no matter what type of mask the acrobat put up.

Obviously _that _had changed. At this point, Dick felt like he was being replaced completely. He still wasn't jealous, but he had thought Wally would at least have a spot for two people. Dick didn't realize he was replaceable…and okay, that statement was a little over the top. He wasn't being _replaced; _more of just shoved away so Wally could talk to and about Artemis more. (Who was he kidding? That was practically the definition of replaced.)

Dick knew he could be blowing things out of proportion at least an itty bitty tiny bit. But at the same time, he knew there was a solid foundation for the frustration he was feeling. There was no doubt that Wally had definitely started devoting almost all of his attention to Artemis now, and whenever Dick would talk to him, the blonde archer always ended up being mentioned. He couldn't hide the fact that even his best friend was teasing him for being jealous, seeming oblivious to the fact that it was actually hurting Dick's feelings at least a little bit.

The thing Dick was the most scared of was losing Wally. He had already lost so many people in his life; he didn't want to have to lose his best friend too. So Dick would just keep smiling and hoping that their bond would start strengthening again, somehow, and never let his discontent be known. He couldn't ruin Wally's relationship with Artemis like that, after all; that pretty much went against all best friend rules. However, he couldn't help the one day it slipped…

* * *

"Why don't you invite Dick over for dinner?" Wally's mom offered. "It's been a while since you've seen him."

Wally shrugged and swallowed the handful of chips he had been snacking on. "I guess. I was hoping to go out for dinner with Artemis though," he answered. He couldn't just slack off his duties as a boyfriend, after all. And he really, really enjoyed being with Artemis. But his mom's comment made him think. It _had _been a little while; it had been almost a full week since their last conversation, actually. That was pretty bad considering the fact that the two were best friends. Maybe he could stop by and talk to Dick for a bit before he went to go pick Artemis up for their dinner date tonight. He still had a few hours. Mind made up, he said goodbye to his parents and dashed off to Gotham City, thinking that would be a safer bet than Mount Justice.

He was right. As soon as he knocked on the Wayne manor door, Alfred had informed him that "Master Dick was exercising in the gym" and to just go on down there and talk to him. Wally didn't waste any time, a wide grin forming on his face to greet his friend with as he ran into the gym. His emerald eyes immediately spotted Dick swinging gracefully through the air, flipping and twisting with a deceptive ease, like moving poetry. The acrobat let go of the bar only to flip through the air and land on the mat, stumbling when his feet hit the ground.

Wally frowned at that. Dick only ever messed up like that if he was really upset about something, or injured. He couldn't make out any bandages, so it had to be the former. "Hey, Dick!" Wally called out, walking closer to his ebony-haired friend. "How are you?"

Dick pasted a smile on his face, wiping away some of the sweat glistening on his forehead with the back of his hand. "Pretty good. What about you?" he asked.

"Same," Wally shrugged. Still wanting to get to the bottom of this, he continued. "So…anything going on lately?"

Dick shook his head. "Nah, I'm not really doing anything," he answered.

"Okay, I'm just going to drop the small talk and come straight out and say it," Wally sighed after a moment, not really in the mood for any sort of banter, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Dick responded immediately, same easy look forced upon his face. "Why? Is there something I should be upset about?"

"No, and that's the problem," Wally huffed, frowning. "I _know _something's bugging you, but you won't admit it!"

"Wally, I'm fine-"

"See? That's what you always say when you're hiding something!" Wally blurted, pointing a finger at him in a wild, energized gesture.

"Fine, then. I'm _okay_. Happy?"

"No, not really."

"Well, what do you want from me?" Dick growled. "Nothing's wrong, life's good, everything's just downright _peachy."_

"You don't have to lie to me," Wally responded, voice soft and almost encouraging, as if coaxing him into honestly. "Artemis says-"

Dick gritted his teeth, hands clenching into tight fists as anger granted his cheeks a red flush. This didn't go unnoticed by Wally, who frowned. "Dude, do you have a problem with my girlfriend? You know you don't have to be jealous. I still-"

_"I'm not jealous!" _Dick shouted, resisting the urge to stomp his foot. Silence filled the air after the outburst, filled with only the sound of Dick's heavy breathing.

"Dick," Wally finally said, eyes wide, "I was just-"

"Teasing?" Dick suggested bitterly, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, I've heard a lot of that lately."

"Listen, if you have a problem with me and Artemis dating-" Wally started, realizing where this was going.

"Are you _blind?!" _Dick demanded. "Of _course _I don't have a problem with you guys dating! I was the one who wanted you two to actually admit your feelings first, if you don't remember. I'm happy for both of you."

"Really? 'Cause you're sure not acting like it," Wally muttered.

"Yes, really! I'm happy you two are dating, and I'm happy that _you're _happy. But I'll admit it; we've been growing apart ever since you started dating her, and you know it. She's all you ever talk about anymore, and while I'm perfectly okay with you guys spending time together, you mention her in pretty much every _single _conversation we ever have. Too much, Wally! What happened to us? We're supposed to be best friends, but you can't even notice that I'm being pushed away by you and I hate it! I've been constantly teased about being jealous, which I'm _not, _pushed away by the person who knows me better than almost anyone else, all because you have a girlfriend now!" Dick ranted.

"I can't believe you're acting like this! You're supposed to be _my _best friend; what happened to _supporting_ me?" Wally argued, his automatic response to get defensive and angry.

"What do you think I've been doing for _months?!" _Dick demanded. "I've kept everything bottled up inside all so you could have a happy relationship without any worries, and I've sat through every single one of your descriptions of anything Artemis says or does, and there are an insane amount of those!" He took a deep breath and seemed to crumple in on himself, face falling. "This is why I never wanted to tell you. I knew you'd think I'm jealous and a horrible friend-"

"Maybe that's because that's exactly what you're acting like!" Wally shouted back, sudden anger surging through his veins. He couldn't believe this! Dick was actually _upset _that he was dating Artemis! What kind of friend acted like that?

Hurt flashed briefly through Dick's blue eyes before they became icy, his teeth gritted together. "Get. Out," he growled, pointing towards the open doorway.

Wally, at this point, wanted nothing more than to be as far away from Dick as possible. "Gladly," he shot back as he stormed out of the room, footsteps echoing loudly against the walls.

Once the speedster was out of sight, Dick allowed his rigid frame to slump against a nearby treadmill, biting his lip so hard that it started to bleed. He absently reached up and wiped it away with fingers that trembled from emotion. Sure that Wally was out of earshot by now, he let out a shout of frustration and slammed his fist hard into the concrete wall behind him. Cracks spiderwebbed from the point of impact, but Dick couldn't really bring himself to care right then.

An odd mixture of slight guilt and anger coursed through him, making him feel off balance and like he _really_ wanted to beat something up. His life was complicated enough as it was; he really didn't need this added to it.

* * *

Wally had only cooled off slightly by the time his dinner date with Artemis rolled around. He picked her up using his dad's old car, taking only a moment to appreciate how beautiful she looked. "Hey," she greeted, gray eyes scrutinizing him.

Wally forced a smile on his face. This was between Artemis and him, and the speedster was determined to ignore Dick's obvious jealousy problems. "Hey, Arty," he teased, knowing she hated the nickname.

"How are you, _Twinkle Toes?" _Artemis asked, smirking slightly as she saw Wally's responding look of disgust. She chuckled as she plopped herself down in the front seat.

Wally's smile quickly became more genuine as he relaxed into the familiar banter they enjoyed, and he was laughing by the time they reached the small diner he had chosen as their destination tonight. It was fairly empty, only them and a handful of other people, so there was no wait at all before they were able to sit in their preferred booth and have their orders taken.

Artemis frowned a little as she stared at Wally. After dating for a few months, it wasn't hard to tell that something was bothering her boyfriend. "So, what's eating you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Huh? Oh, nothing," Wally responded clumsily, not sounding all that convincing, "Everything's fine."

"Spill it, Baywatch," Artemis ordered, wanting to know exactly who or what was bothering the speedster, so she could deal with it if necessary.

Wally absently played with a napkin, tearing and twisting it to keep his fingers occupied as he hesitated. A sharp look from the spitfire in front of him prompted him to answer quickly, and he swallowed. "Rob's just jealous," he said slowly. "He thinks I'm replacing him with you or something."

"Why would he think that?" Artemis asked.

"I don't know…he claims I talk about you too much and I'm pushing him away just to spend time with you," Wally shrugged.

"Well, are you?" Artemis asked. "Has there been anything you've blown off that you were going to do with him so you could see me instead?"

"Of course not!" Wally protested immediately. "No way!" But…if he actually _thought _about it…maybe he had done something similar to that _occasionally. _"Well, maybe…but that doesn't change the fact that he's acting like a horrible friend right now! I mean seriously, what kind of best friend _is _he if he can't be happy that I'm dating someone?!"

"Every time I've seen him he's seemed okay with it to me," Artemis pointed out.

"You have no idea how well that kid can act. It's hard for _me _to tell when he's upset sometimes, and I've known him for years," Wally replied, shaking his head.

"Has he seemed upset lately?"

"I don't know," Wally answered uncertainly. Dick had seemed a little more closed off and had a tendency to become violent more easily on missions recently. "I guess so."

"Why don't you go talk to him again?" Artemis suggested.

"He's still probably angry. We'll just end up yelling," Wally attempted, knowing he was just trying to prolong the inevitable.

Artemis was no psychiatrist. For a long time, she either ran away from her problems or just tried to ignore them completely. But she hated to see Wally upset like this; she knew how much Robin meant to him. So she had to do something to get them to make up, before this got even farther out of hand. "You'll never know until you try. Just keep an open mind," she advised. "But you can't ignore this."

Some part of Wally recognized that Artemis was right, he just _really _didn't want to have to do this, not when he was still frustrated himself. But he had to, so he stood up anyway. "Thanks, Arty," he murmured, pecking her lightly on the cheek before heading towards the door. "We'll continue this later, I promise." With that, he was gone, leaving Artemis sitting alone in the booth.

Artemis sighed, staring at the now empty seat across from her. She hoped what she said worked, because she had no experience trying to solve problems like that whatsoever; she had no idea what she was doing. Of course, now she was dateless for the night, but it was for a good cause. She gestured to a nearby waitress. "Could I get my order to go, please?"

* * *

Wally ran towards Gotham, dreading the upcoming conversation. Oh man, how was he supposed to do this? He had never been in this situation with anyone, much less his best friend…well, former best friend. If they didn't fix this, he doubted they would still have that close bond.

He was on his way down to the manor when he spotted two very familiar outlines perched on a nearby rooftop. Wally altered his course, racing up the fire escape to come face to face with the two well-known vigilantes of Gotham City. Robin fixed him with an icy glare while Batman merely looked exasperated. "I need to speak with Robin," the speedster blurted nervously.

Dick glanced up at Bruce, noticing the very slight nod the Dark Knight gave him. "What is it?" he asked coldly, crossing his arms as he took a step closer.

"I need to talk to you privately," Wally clarified, glancing back at Bruce for emphasis.

"I'll be patrolling the warehouses in south Gotham. Find me when you're done," Bruce relented, glancing at his protégé before seeming to simply melt away into the shadows.

Dick turned to face the speedster. "What is it?" he repeated in the same hard tone.

"I wanted to say-"

"Say what?" Dick interrupted. "That I'm just jealous? That I'm a horrible friend? Yeah, no thanks; you've said enough of that already." He moved to turn away, not in the mood for any of this.

"No! I wanted to say…I'm sorry," Wally forced out, knowing that Dick wasn't going to be the one to apologize any time soon. It was best he do it and get it over with. "You're right; I have been pushing you away to be with Artemis, but I didn't mean to. I guess I was just so excited about dating Artemis that that's all I wanted to talk about. I can't blame you for getting angry; I'd probably do the same thing if I was in your shoes."

Dick studied him carefully, blue eyes piercing even behind the white lenses of his mask. Finally his shoulders slumped and he sighed. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have let it bother me so much; I know you didn't mean it," he replied. "But…thanks, Wally."

"Anytime," Wally responded automatically, though he hoped that he would never have to do this again. Once was enough, thank you very much. "So…we're good?" he checked.

One corner of Dick's lips twitched upward in a slight grin. "We're good," he agreed. There was a moment's pause before he continued slowly. "So…tomorrow is the third Friday of the month…" he started.

The speedster didn't hesitate for even a second. "I'll bring the popcorn," Wally grinned.

Dick was actually able to laugh a little at that, relaxing as he bumped fists with the speedster. They would be fine.

* * *

**A/N **Not my best work...sorry about that. I just _really _need to post something after leaving you guys hanging for over a month.

Anyway, I think this is something that could have happened; it could be one of the reasons Dick and Wally weren't as close in season 2 as they were in season 1, anyway. I gave this one a happy ending though, 'cause I'm a sucker for happy endings. ;)

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	48. Sleep

**A/N **Sorry that this was a bit late; I was insanely busy. I barely had time to eat, much less write. But here is a new chapter!

I've never actually written Jason, Tim, or Damian before, so I hope they're in character...Dick is an awesome big brother though. Seriously.

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT BELOW GUYS!

**Disclaimer **If I owned this, fans wouldn't have to be raising $10 million dollars to see new episodes. And Wally would be alive.

~Aiva

* * *

Jason was used to having a hard time falling asleep. It came from being a street kid, never knowing what the next few minutes would bring. He was almost constantly on alert, and that was a really hard habit to break.

It didn't help that he had only been at the manor for a few months, and just because it was the house of Batman didn't make it any more familiar. It didn't feel safe, like he thought a home would; Jason hoped that would change eventually, because he hadn't ever really had a home where he could feel completely safe.

Jason stayed in his bed for what felt like hours, only drifting off to sleep for a few minutes or so every time. He wished he could relax, but every shadow seemed like a danger, every closed door an ambush waiting to happen, every creak and groan the warning of attack. Jason couldn't take it any longer, throwing off the covers and practically racing out the door. Maybe if he was outside he wouldn't feel so trapped and paranoid; at the very least the fresh air would clear his head.

He had found a window a while back that had a pretty reliable route up to the roof. Jason had gone up there quite a few times, and quickly decided it was pretty awesome. He found the window and clambered up without any hesitation, breathing in the cool night air greedily. His green eyes focused…only to find another person sitting there.

Jason made a sound of surprise and nearly fell of backwards, the person grabbing on to his arm to prevent what would've been a pretty messy landing. Jason, heart in his throat and body ready to fight, tried to make out who the mysterious person was. The gentle light of the moon was enough to illuminate Dick's face, and Jason relaxed when he realized it wasn't an enemy. He soon scowled when he realized his secret spot wasn't so secret anymore though. "I thought you were gone," he mumbled. Dick had dropped by the manor once today, with information on a case. His arm had been injured too, though Alfred was the one who figured that out, and even then it took a while for anyone to notice.

"Alfred made me stay," Dick shrugged, scooting over to make room for the kid. He could tell Jason was angry that he was here, but Dick wasn't ready to move yet. "Something about how he didn't want me to end up killing myself going out on patrol."

Jason let out a noncommittal grunt, carefully wedging himself next to Dick, trying to stay as far away as possible. It didn't really work out too well, considering how small the little nook in the roof was.

"Can't sleep?" Dick guessed. He could tell from the slight slump of Jason's shoulders that that was the case. He slung a casual arm around the kid's shoulders, trying to get him to relax some. "I used to come out here some times when I had trouble sleeping and Bruce wasn't home. It's pretty nice, isn't it? Like you can see everything, but no one can see you."

Jason really wanted to push away Dick's arm; they didn't know each other that well, after all, and Jason just didn't like people touching him. But for whatever reason he allowed the arm to stay, the warmth feeling pretty good in the cold night air.

Jason eventually found himself not minding as much, Dick's voice calm and soft as he told stories, of old missions and other heroes. It wasn't long before Jason felt himself nodding off, trying and failing to keep himself awake. He couldn't help it as his breaths evened out and his eyes drifted shut. This wasn't the worst place he had slept; it was pretty comfortable, actually.

Dick glanced down when Jason started to snore, smiling as he gently gathered the boy into his arms. Jason let out a quiet mumble but didn't stir as Dick made the awkward climb back down, grateful for the easy access to the window. If the route had been any more complex, there would've been no way he could do this. All that was really required was a one-handed swing down through the open window frame.

He carefully dropped Jason off where he was pretty sure the kid's room was, tucking the rumpled covers around his body and ruffling his hair before leaving. "Night, Jaybird," he whispered.

Jason slept the rest of the night, not waking up once.

* * *

Tim really didn't like having to go to others for help. It made him feel uncomfortable and awkward, and usually made his cheeks heat up with embarrassment. So he wasn't sure why, after waking from a rather gruesome nightmare, he found himself standing outside of Dick's room. Tim shifted his bare feet, toes curling up nervously as he eyed the closed bedroom door. He didn't even know why he was still out here. If he was actually thinking, he would just turn around and go back to his own bed, burying himself underneath the covers until the lingering nighttime terrors had disappeared. But Tim was still exhausted from the late mission they had all been on – the only reason both he and Dick were staying at the Cave that night – and wasn't thinking clearly at all.

The nightmare _had _been pretty bad, and he was starting to feel increasingly small and alone amidst the empty dark hallway. Glancing nervously over his shoulder as if checking to make sure no one was here to witness this, Tim carefully applied pressure to the door, gently opening it as to make sure it wouldn't squeak in the process. He didn't want to wake Dick, after all; he just wanted to reassure himself with the sight of another breathing, living person. Maybe that would eliminate some of the queasiness that filled some pit deep within his stomach.

Tim stepped into the dim bedroom, eyes already well-adjusted to the dark. He could make out a large lump sprawled out in the bed that had to be Dick and soft snores filled the air. Compelled by an urge Tim didn't completely understand, the third Robin stepped closer, making sure to keep his footsteps soft and quiet. Despite his efforts, some sixth sense roused Dick, and the young man's snores halted as he forced his bleary eyes open.

"Timmy," he yawned, offering a groggy smile that was soft with sleep. "Somethin' wrong, buddy?"

Tim, fully prepared to apologize for waking Dick up in the middle of the night, paused, mouth hanging open slightly. Finally, he swallowed hard and shook his head just a little bit. "No…" he answered hesitantly.

"You can tell me if something's wrong," Dick assured gently. Blue eyes focusing a little bit more, he could make out Tim's pale, sweaty forehead and the fact that the boy was chewing on his lower lip, one of his tell-tale nervous habits. "Nightmare?" he guessed.

Tim paused before finally nodding, staring at his feet sheepishly as a red blush crept on to his cheeks. "Sorry," he apologized hastily. "It's not that big of a deal. I'll just-"

"You can stay, Timmy," Dick offered. Tim probably would've considered, but the acrobat had already scooted over, making a Tim-sized spot on the mattress. "There 'ya go," he continued, patting the open space encouragingly.

Tim hesitated for only a moment before slipping into the warm, comfortable spot on the bed. Dick pulled the blankets back over the both of them and the comforter enveloped Tim like a soft cocoon.

"You wanna talk about it?" Dick asked, struggling to stifle a yawn as he spoke.

"Not really," Tim admitted. A moment's silence filled the air before he finally continued in a quiet, barely audible whisper. "Thanks, Dick."

"No problemo, Tim," Dick murmured, automatically reaching out and pulling the small boy into a secure hug.

At first Tim stiffened, not quite sure how he was supposed to react. But the embrace was so nice and reassuring, feeling almost _safe, _and he soon found himself relaxing in Dick's arms. Tim subtly shifted a little closer, taking comfort in his older brother figure's presence. This definitely beat curling up in his own cold bed and trying to ward of the nightmares himself. Feeling much more relaxed now that he wasn't alone, Tim allowed his eyes to drift shut, soaking up the hug like a sponge. "Good night," he murmured after a minute. He could just barely feel Dick's sleepy smile in response.

"G'night, lil' bro," Dick mumbled, too far gone at this point to notice his words slurring slightly. He was soon snoring again, out like a light. A small smile graced Tim's own face as he followed Dick's example, trying to fall asleep. Maybe he should do this again sometime; surely Dick wouldn't mind. Besides, he was great at this stuff. Tim's fears were not completely gone, but here, in the space in between Dick's arms, he felt completely at home and safe, like nothing could ever harm him. Maybe nothing would. Dick, after all, was his big brother. He wouldn't let anything happen to Tim.

Reassured by this knowledge, Tim fell into peaceful slumber, a smile still on his face.

* * *

Damian hated weakness. He was the son of the Batman, a member of both the al'Ghul and Wayne family. He was never weak, never could be. It went against his very self. …That apparently didn't mean he couldn't have nightmares though.

He woke up shivering, a cold sweat drenching his tan skin. His breaths came in short, hard pants that did nothing to slow the fierce pounding of his heart. Tears stung his eyes, but he blinked them back furiously, glancing down at his shaking hands. Even in the shadows he could see the calloused skin, clean and unblemished. No blood. None of the crimson liquid etched into every groove and crease, the dried spots flaking off at a touch. There was no razor-sharp knife clutched in his fingers. There was no body lying in front of him, frame painfully familiar, wearing the face of his…_No_.

Damian couldn't bring himself to think of the rest, literally feeling sick with how vivid the nightmare had been. He placed his head between his knees, trying to gain some semblance of control. _It was merely a nightmare, _he reminded himself. _A figment of my imagination. I am not scared, I was only…startled. _But no matter how many times he may have repeated that to himself, it didn't change the fact that he was indeed scared…he just wouldn't admit it.

His heart refused to slow, the irrational panic growing every second, filling him with an automatic need to escape. Damian didn't hesitate, bolting out of his room and racing down the hall, barely remembering to keep his footsteps silent. He didn't realize where he had been heading until he was standing right outside the door. He bit his lip uncertainly, trying to convince himself that he could handle this on his own, that he would be fine. His mind kept insisting his hands were covered in sticky blood though, filling him with the irrational fear that as soon as he opened the door, he would find that same familiar person sprawled lifeless on the floor.

Damian shook his head, pushing the door open as quietly as he could. Exhausted, his shoulders slumped with relief as his eyes made out Dick's form, huddled up safely under the covers. Everything was fine, Grayson wasn't dead, Damian hadn't killed him. The young vigilante was preparing himself to turn around and face the shadows of the night when Dick let out a rather unattractive snort, eyes blinking open and spotting Damian's silhouette in the doorframe. "Dami?" he called out, a hint of surprise edging his sleepy voice.

"Grayson," Damian acknowledged, attempting to hide the quiver in his own voice. It must not have worked very well, because the older man pushed himself into a sitting position and beckoned him over. Damian complied, albeit reluctantly.

"You alright, Dami?" Dick yawned, concern glowing in his cerulean eyes as he glanced the lad over, just to make sure.

"Tt, of course I am," he responded in derision. Knowing that Dick would require some sort of explanation, he continued. "I just thought I had heard something, and wanted to make sure no harm had come to you."

Dick grinned, heart swelling with affection for the boy. It was times like these he was reminded – in those simple, subtle ways – that Damian was indeed a child. "Aw, I knew you cared about me," he murmured in that sappy tone he knew Damian hated.

"Hardly," Damian sniffed.

"Then why bother checking on me?"

Damian paused for a second before continuing. "Pennyworth. He would be heartbroken if you were harmed, and-"

"And you've grown fond of him too?"

Damian's cheeks grew hot and his hands clenched into fists. Dick relented, scooting over on the bed and practically forcing the kid to sit next to him. "You can tell me if something's wrong," he assured softly.

"Tt. I have already told you nothing is wrong. Is your skull too thick to-"

"Was it a nightmare?" Dick interrupted, rubbing the boy's shoulder comfortingly. Damian's unresponding silence was answer enough. "It's alright. We all have nightmares. Me, Bruce…everyone. It's perfectly normal."

Damian wanted to insist that he had had no such thing and that everything really was fine, but Dick's voice was almost…soothing amidst the darkness, and the gentle pressure on his shoulder was relaxing. So instead he allowed his tense muscles to relax fractionally, succumbing to the warm embrace, heart finally starting to slow its frenzied beats.

"Want to talk about it?" Dick asked gently. "Sometimes telling someone else helps."

"No," Damian insisted. But at the same time, he really didn't want to leave. "But…could I…sleep here tonight?"

If he had been able to see Dick's face, he would've seen it light up, an affectionate smile spreading across it. "Of course you can, little Robin," he agreed, the nickname slipping out unintentionally, drawn back up from memories when he would be sneaking into Bruce's room and the man would say the same thing. And even farther back, when he would have a nightmare and would snuggle up with his mom, and she would whisper the same into his ear.

Damian frowned in confusion. "I thought I was Father's Robin," he pointed out slowly.

"You were mine first," Dick murmured. "And partners stick together." With that he laid down, gently bringing Damian with him. For once, Damian didn't resist, or even complain as he Dick's arm pulled him into a safe embrace. Listening to the beating of the young man's heart, Damian finally felt himself truly relax, and he allowed his eyes to drift shut. "G'night, Damian," he whispered. "Love you."

"Good night, Grayson," Damian responded. He waited until he was sure Dick was fully asleep before adding the rest. "I…love you too." The words were barely a whisper, but the still seemed loud in the quiet air, full of nothing but the soothing sounds of their breathing.

If Damian hadn't drifted off into a sleep of his own shortly after, he would've seen Dick smile.

* * *

**A/N **Small note for Jason's little story; he hasn't been trained by Bruce long enough to really have been compared to Dick a lot, thus isn't calling him Golden Boy yet and is still a bit more open to him.

Anyway, I have important news for all fans!

In case you haven't heard, SMGO tv organized a meeting with Warner Brothers a while back. The meeting didn't go well, because they thought we wouldn't be able to raise the money in time. But SMGO tv came back to us and decided they would give us a chance. They know we are determined. They know that we will do what it takes to bring Young Justice back, and save our heroes. You can go on their page on tumblr, or just google them.

But the point is, we have about 80 days to raise $10 million dollars. Sounds insane, doesn't it? But if we can even get close to that amount of money, we can prove to Warner Brothers that bringing Young Justice back will be worth it. I think we can do it - no. I _know _we can do it. Young Justice may be a cartoon, but we all have seen these characters be brought to life in our stories. They're more than just cartoon characters by now; they're _our _characters too. And we can't let them go without a fight.

They've saved the world many times, and now it's time for us to save them.

Everyone, if you could donate even a little money, you'd be doing Young Justice a huge, huge favor. We need to take action. We can't take this sitting down. Together, on our own, we can forge something powerful, important. We can do this. We can prove Warner Brothers wrong. We know Young Justice is worth saving; now it's time to show them.

So please, tell people. Spread the word. Put notices on your stories, tell your friends, post it to tumblr, deviantart...anywhere you can think of. Do what you can to help, because we are Young Justice's only chance.


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